


Roberta (Working Title)

by KailynBail



Series: Modern or Alternate Universe of the Dragon Age [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chantry, Cultures, F/M, Family, I did my best okay, Mages, Modern Setting, Special Forces type, Templars, Undercover, Undercover relationships, apostate - Freeform, cameo appearances from other characters, mage and templar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 09:07:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 52
Words: 75,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11756559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KailynBail/pseuds/KailynBail
Summary: Chewed up and spit out, Cullen knew no other life than tracking, lying, and killing. He was trained in all of it, lived it, and that was that. He was a barely recovering addict, living in a world that just plain sucked. Meeting an apostate while undercover? Yeah, that didn't help matters any, not one bit. The fact that she was a spitfire with a mouth that drove him crazy? That had bad idea written all over it. Could he love her? Or would he drive her away? If he were a betting man, he'd bet it all on him FUBAR'ing it.[This work is currently incomplete, however, it is at a good stopping point.]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to go ahead and put all the warnings here... and I'll probably put them at the beginning of the chapters too.  
> This work contains -deep breath- fluff, smut, angst, non-con for blood magic, hints at past rape, drug use (lyrium), addiction (lyrium), recovering addict, addict episodes, PTSD episodes, total assholism, bitch-ism, jerkish, and semi-organized crime.  
> Disclaimer: The cultures/names/locations in this fic are there for entertainment purposes only, they don't hint at any one particular individual or location being evil or bad.

Golden eyes flew open, pupils shrinking to pinpoints as systems came online… it took him a moment to remember that he was in an actual bed and not in some God forsaken jungle in the back end of bum fucked nowhere. Cullen scrubbed at his face roughly as he worked on bringing his blood pressure out of the rafters and convincing his heart that it did not, in fact, have to try and pound its way out of his own chest. He sat up slow, waiting for the pain… and like clockwork, he could always count on the spearing stab that went up his spine.

He swung his feet out of the bed, settled them on the worn carpet, one hand set to his lower back as he reached with the other… the pill bottle in his grasp, lid flipped… one down the hatch, no water… a rough swallow and it’d be twenty minutes before relief was on its way. _From one addiction to another._ He shook his head, slamming the orange and white bottle back down on the night stand, the word _Liriodone_ nearly scrubbed off at this point since he opted to continue using the flip top bottle instead of the newer _child safety_ ones, he had no children, what was the fucking point in using those hard to open bottles anyway? It was a poor substitute… but it at least kept the pain away. Granted… he was only supposed to use it whenever he couldn’t ‘fight the cravings’… _ha_ , what a joke that was.

He stumbled into the bathroom and paid tribute to the porcelain… shaking his head at himself and his fucked up life. What the doctors _never_ failed to realize was… those aforementioned cravings? Yeah, they were all the fucking time. Every moment, of every day… of every week… of every fucking year. It didn’t matter that it’d been three since he’d left the Order… that was irrelevant. He ignored the mirror, climbing into the shower, letting the scalding water go to work on his stiff muscles. He ran the bar of no nonsense soap over his skin, a solemn expression set on his features as he forced his mind to remain in the here and now… and not fall down the rabbit hole… but each time he felt the raised welt of a scar that spoke of the time a bullet either entered his body and never left… or took a straight shot through… it pulled at his memories.

He knew every single one of them by heart… could remember exactly how they felt, remember exactly what he was doing when they happened… and hated what each one represented. _Honor my ass._ He ground out under his breath as he shoved his dog tags out of the way, soaping up his chest last. By the time he rinsed off and got out… a towel around his waist and the other running over his curly hair, he felt the drugs doing what they were supposed to do. His bones felt ten times lighter, his muscles eased out of their nearly constant tense state… and he could finally take a full breath. He tossed the towel over the shower rod… ran his hand over the fogged mirror, ignored the bags under his eyes and the slight hollow of his cheeks… and went about washing his beard with the special _beard wash_ he’d bought last month. Just because he wasn’t supposed to shave anymore didn’t mean he was going to look like some damn mountain man… _years_ of being clean cut had conditioned him to be meticulous about his appearance.

Now that he was spec-ops… he had to wear a beard, it was the end all, be all, furthest away from a soldier as possible looking. Didn’t mean it had to be wiry and out of control. He poured some gel out into his palm and tamed his curls, loathing their very existence and the fact that he was also required to grow his hair out now… something he had actually argued. It wasn’t until he had about an inch and a half of growth that his squad mates figured out why… and thus, they gave him the call sign _Curly_ of all things. Still, he styled his hair, forced his curls to abandon their crusade of causing him to look downright boyish and left the bathroom. He dressed in street clothes, civie-skins as they called it.

Jeans, black ribbed tank that hugged his body, heather gray over tee shirt, his dog tags carefully tucked inside the tank, invisible beyond the tee. Standard belt, nothing special… standard watch, again, middle shelf… not poor, not rich. Brown lace up boots… and a worn average joe brown jacket that might or might not be leather. He stuffed his wallet into his back pocket and aimed for the door of his room… the extended stay hotel he was staying in was again, middle class. Everything about the entire place screamed _average_. It had a living room and kitchenette area but he rarely went in there… not much point when he didn’t watch TV and he never cooked or ate here. He snatched his cell off the table by the door before he left, testing the knob once he shut the door, making sure it had auto-locked… it always did… but old habits died hard apparently.  

He bypassed the mailroom, he never got any mail… no one knew he was here and as far as those who lived here, his name was Ryan Sanders… again… _average_. Just a random guy taking a long sabbatical in Ireland, from a small town deep in the country of Britain. Nowhere special, nothing special, and incredibly boring.

Never mind the fact that he was here hunting down a terrorist cell… no, never mind that. Never mind the fact that he was a barely functioning Lyrium addict… no… never mind _that_. Never mind the fact that he had one hell of an Achilles heel and it took very little to trigger his PTSD. No… never mind _that_. Never mind that he was lethal in about fifteen thousand different ways… no… never mind _that_. Never mind that he could use every gun on the planet and turn just about anything into a weapon… no… never mind _that_.

He ground his molars as he hit the pavement at a steady clip, hailing a cabbie, the brisk night air biting at his bare hand.. the false wedding band glinting in the old gas lights that lined the street in this part of Dublin-town. The ring… another part of his cover. He was a _widower_. Something that ensured people not pry into his personal life… it ensured people pitied him just enough to leave him the fuck alone. They didn’t question his odd sleeping habits, his nighttime jaunts, nor the fact that he was _always_ alone. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to wear such a ring for _the job_. And now, just like every time, he hated it. Hated it because he knew… it’d be the only way he’d ever wear one.

At thirty five years old… he was washed up and used up, chewed up by the church and spat out over to the armed forces. He had no skills outside of hunting and killing… he couldn’t go ten hours without a fix of _some kind_ … he barely slept at all, and when he did… he had nightmares that no amount of Ambien or alcohol could chase away... he lost his faith eons ago and hated the church with a passion that was bordering on insane most of the time… but at the same time… he still went to mass every single Sunday like a fucking moron… and prayed with a reverence and dedication that he felt foolish over. Yeah… what a catch he was. Not that he’d know what to do with a woman even if he got his hands on one and porn only offered _so much_ instruction… the last time he actually touched one?

Well… he leaned his head back against the headrest and blew out a heavy breath, brows perking slightly as he thought to himself, the cabbie taking a hard right and heading him towards Dublin proper, as per directed. Hell, it had to have been right before his vows… Lyrium tended to dull the senses on a variety of levels… and one received their first draft when they took their vows. So it wasn’t as if he was a virgin, per say… though at this point, he might as well be a born again or whatever they were calling it now. A-sexual? Was that it? He couldn’t even remember her… the girl he had laid with before he vowed himself to the Order.

He absentmindedly rubbed at his right bicep… the deep scar pricking as long dead nerves tried to fire… the Templar shield tattoo now ruined because of it. Because of him… and what he’d done one night in a haze of angry retribution. They’d locked him up in a psych ward for a month over that little ditty.

When the cabbie came to a stop, he handed the man a few extra euro on top of the fare and gave him a dip of his chin. He never could pay _just_ the fare… his brother was a cabbie in London. He knew how hard that life was. He just ducked out of the cab when the man thanked him… and he heard true gratitude in his voice. It was sad when just a few euro made a man that grateful.

Cullen made way down Bull Alley… and went to the location he’d been texted earlier in the day before he’d tried to take a long nap in preparation for the night. He’d been assigned _someone_ on the _inside_ … someone who was their _mole_ , or rather… his agency’s mole. Someone who was going to help _him_ by getting him _in_ , so he could make the final plans and shut this cell down, for good. He saw St. Patrick’s Cathedral looming in the not-so-distant distance… and crossed the street, noting that this area of Dublin was actually kind of… eerie this late at night. _No, this didn’t scream set-up at all._ He turned into St. Patrick’s Park… pushed open the iron gate and winced as it screamed at him for disturbing it.

It mattered little, he knew that people came here at night all the time but it didn’t help ease his sudden tension. _By the liberty bell…_ the instructions had said. He could see someone standing there... his brow held low as he tucked his hands in his pockets and made way down the path… he didn’t want to cross onto the grass, lest he anger God… or his mighty protectors… the fearsome… _security guards_. He scoffed in his mind… giving his head a firm shake and schooling his features and mind down into _game time_. His contact’s name was _Quinn_ … judging by the figure he spotted, the guy must be pretty small, no wonder his agency tapped him… he was no doubt easily manipulated, easily strong armed into doing what they wanted him to do. Easily intimidated.


	2. Chapter 2

Quinn pivoted on the heel of her boot lazily, aimlessly fidgeting as she waited. She’d been tapped a year ago or rather… she had tapped _them_ … while she had been trying to find a way to get _out_. She’d been okay with Bron and his band of merry misfits… right up until they had started talking with those creepy dudes from the middle east. Then… then she was so not okay with anything. It went from petty theft and vandalism to… hurting people. She was not down with that at all. At first, she’d just told him that she was out… and tried to walk away. The scar just there on the underside of her chin stretching all the way along her jaw and into her hairline was a violent reminder that it wasn’t that easy… not anymore anyway. She had been their bait girl, once upon a time. Now? She was their _recruiter_. And she _hated_ each… and every one of those whoresons. Bron thought that because he’d threatened her, because he’d bled her, that it made her so scared of him that she wouldn’t _dare_ betray him. _Ha! Fat chance_. She looked over her shoulder, her long auburn hair sliding around her faded black pleather jacket, her _many_ necklaces jingling slightly from the action. She saw a man approaching… her brows furrowed as she turned to face him… dread started to fill her up… _please don’t be the guy, please don’t be the guy… shit, shit, shit… no, no!_ She started to whine in her head as he got closer and she saw him better, could take in his features… which were admittedly… nice to look at but… there was no fucking way she could use _him_! She shook her head as he stilled his steps in front of her, looking at her… probably the same way she was looking at him. “ _No_.” She hissed, shaking her head and gesturing for him to go away. “Shoo.”

Cullen was taken aback by a few things… one, she was a _she_ … and two, she was about a foot shorter than he was, even with her… ugh… heels. Even if they were boots, they were still bloody heels. The absolute last thing he wanted to deal with was a prissy female. Especially one that was… as… attractive as she was. He sped past that thought and was scowling down at her and her words/gestures both. “Beg pardon?” His accent spoke of the entire island of Great Britain as a whole, non descript… which was exactly what made him perfect for these kinds of missions.

Quinn groaned and bent her knees, probably over dramatic but there it was. “I said _no_.” She pointed behind him. “So you can just go back to them, Mr. Pretty boy, and tell them that there is no way in hell that I can pitch _you_. I _told_ them…” She stepped closer, craning her neck as she dipped her voice. “I told them to send me someone I can pitch to Bron… not a damn walking poster boy for _them_. What am I supposed to do with _you_ hmm?” She swatted at the collar of his purposefully basic coat, so much so that it was painfully obvious. “What?! You’re going to get us both _killed_ if I take him to you like this! What the hell were they thinking!? You look like… like… a freaking football Dad!”

Cullen leaned back on his heels as she approached, his brow drawing down low as his anger filled him up steadily at her ridicule. She was feisty, he’d give her that… but that was about all he’d give her. Even if he could hear the underlying tone of panic in her voice, he still cleared his throat authoritatively once she was apparently done, bending low and glowering down at her. “I’m sorry I didn’t dress to your specifications, _Princess_. Now, I don’t care how you do it, but do it. We don’t have time to stand here and have you bitch fit about the way I _look_.”

Quinn’s features hardened at his _tone_. Oh… oh _hell_ no. She jabbed a finger up at his chin. “Listen here Mister I use so much gel my hair is practically a rugby helmet… I came to _your_ people. Not the other way around. You’re here because _I_ made this happen. Excuse me if I’d much rather die at the end of this little coo rather than the beginning. So, why don’t you take the word of someone who actually knows what the hell they’re doing… and shut up, sack up, and follow me.” She turned so fast, her hair slapped against his jacket, her fists gripping the air at her sides as she grumbled under her breath and aimed for the street.

Cullen’s spine straightened at the offense of her words, his eyes positively smoldered as his anger snapped in them. Each word made his temper rise… by the time she turned around he was seriously considering how much trouble he would get into if he snatched a handful of that fucking hair of hers and jerked her ass down to the ground for one good stomp or two… he wasn’t above hitting a woman… not when they fucking deserved it. In his world… he couldn’t be chivalric. Women could kill you just as much as men could. He growled as he looked over his shoulder… considered too how much trouble he’d get into if he just ditched her… before he dutifully followed. He heard her grumbling… a few words he caught but they sounded… _Gaelic_ , that’s the language. He didn’t know it, but he knew of it. So, she was actually Irish. Not just been here for awhile Irish, but more than likely born here, somewhere. If not right here in Dublin. While he followed her, he watched her closely, let his eyes fly over her, searching, prodding, for any weakness, any tells. She walked with a sort of strut that screamed defiance… those heels of hers were wide… she could run if she needed to. She wore jeans but they were the stretchy kind… comfort they said. And… he ignored the way his eyes lingered on her rear… and hips… she was curvy where she needed to be though some might consider her a little too thin, her hips… too narrow. He saw the layers she wore, the jacket, the shirt, and a thermal poking out beneath… it said she spent a lot of time on the streets, particularly at night. Was she a hooker? He had to wonder. He saw the small pocket book that hung off her body crossways, preventing someone from just snatching it off her shoulder. He had seen all of her necklaces earlier… heard them now as she moved… it said she wanted to look put together, wanted to look like she was more than she was. Or… that she didn’t trust leaving any of her jewelry wherever she lived. He also noticed that she didn’t wear any lipstick or rouge… just a bit of eye shadow. Which brought into question his hooker theory. Red hair and pale skin, freckles… and hazel eyes all were nondescript… and common no matter what nationality you were as long as you were of the pale skin variety.

Quinn stepped up onto the low stoop, her knuckles lifting and a light knock given to the worn 19th century door. She glanced behind her, rolled her eyes and scoffed at the soldier they had sent her. When the door cracked a bit, she met the Nun’s eye. “Sister.” She said the greeting low… was returned with a _Child,_ and the door opened for them. But… when the man made to follow, the Sister stepped in front of him with a hard look. _No men._ Quinn set her hand to the Sister’s shoulder softly, her mouth opening only she didn’t get a chance to speak.

Cullen had made a look of supreme disapproval at the location _Quinn_ was obviously taking him to. He… hated going inside these back doors of churches. The sister… he met her eye intently… pursing his lips into a thin line as he squared off his shoulders and gave her a fierce look. “ _Move._ ” He… _flexed_ … hating the feeling of his power flying through his veins… his pupils bloomed with the telling blue glow that identified him as a Templar… even though he no longer served.. _she_ didn’t need to know that.

The Sister immediately bowed her head and backed away meekly. _Forgive me, Sir Templar, I meant no offense._ Cullen just shook his head and gave _Quinn_ a look that screamed for her to not say a fucking word about what she had just witnessed.

Quinn… stared openly before she gave him another aggravated look and lead him through the back passageways of the ancient church.. up three flights of stairs and into the attic room. “Shut the do—“ She heard it click shut behind her. She paced anxiously, wringing her hands as she looked at him, the floor… him… the floor… finally she couldn’t keep her mouth shut anymore. “We’re both going to die if I take you in there, you do know that, _right_?” She gestured to him, finally stilling her steps, her brows held low, a deep crease between them as she gave him a hell of a lot of attitude with that final word.

Cullen gave her a droll stare. “You think this is my first trip around the sun?” He barked back at her, not even bothering to chase away the edge from his words.

Quinn rolled her eyes at him. “You couldn’t be _more_ soldier than… than…” She stumbled over the words. “Captain America!” She gestured to him, all of him. “You’re just so…” She gave him an almost disbelieving look, eyes squinting at him as she shook her head, still gesturing at his entire body. “Bloody perfect!”

Cullen folded his arms over his chest, feeling suddenly… self conscious if he were to be honest. His brows shot up at the mention of the fictional American super hero… and with the last? He barked out a cynical laugh. “Hardly.” He said again with that droll look. “Believe it or not, but I do kind of know what I’m doing, ya know… only been at this for years now.” He narrowed his eyes at her as she gave him a disbelieving nod, equipped with high brows to boot.

“Oh, that makes me feel _loads_ better.” She walked over to one of the metal chairs and fell down to sit, cradling her forehead in her hands, scoffing again. “I can’t believe they sent me you… how in the hell am I going to make Bron believe… that _you_ … a soldier… a bloody fucking Templ…” She paused mid-word and sat up suddenly, pointing at him. “That’s it.”

Cullen watched her with a rather disinterested expression… rolling his own eyes at her dramatic mumbling. Then… she pointed at him… he looked at her like she was a leper. “What is…” He… wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know.

She was on her feet and heading back towards him, still pointing. Her eyes fixed on his… “The Templar thing. That’s it!” She clapped her hands on his cheeks, fingers bracing his eyes and widening them, he jerked away violently. It was her turn to give him a droll look.

Cullen stepped away from her and gave her a _what the hell_ look. “Care to explain yourself?” He growled at her, adjusting the collar of his coat.

Quinn sighed heavily. “See if you can keep up with me.” She ignored his angry look. “An _ex_ Templar, you hardly ever see those… angry with the Church because let’s face it, why else would they leave… that’s the perfect motive for wanting to put the hurt on someone. For wanting to incite _terror_. I can actually work with that… better than _hey Bron, here’s some dude I found wondering Durney and Burks, he looks like a great guy to help plan your next bombing. No, he’s not an infiltrator, whatever gave you that idea?”_ She was mimicking a conversation right there in front of Cullen, all while he stared openly at her like she was insane. “ _Oh? The way he’s purposefully dressed to blend in? That’s just his bland sense of style! Oh… that fake wedding ring? That’s his way to pick up chicks! Football Moms go ga-ga over a married guy! That slight clink whenever he walks? His keys! That’s it! It’s his keys, definitely not any kind of military id tags hidden under his shirt!”_ She barked the last one at him and slapped at his chest with the back of her fingers, making his dog tags rattle. “I can pitch an ex-Templar better than whatever you’re trying to be right now any day. I can explain away the rigid way you stand, the careful way you move, the slight glaze on your eyes… all of it… with those two little words. _Ex… Templar_.” She held up her thumb and index finger pointedly.

Cullen had jerked back a step when she slapped at his chest, covering his dog tags the second after, silencing them and the sudden spike in his heartbeat at the way she was just… so… damn perceptive. He hadn’t even realized that she had pegged him so… well. That she had even seen half the shit she was going on about. He hadn’t even noticed his dog tags making noise… then again, he was so used to hearing it. Offense crossed his features over the last few things though. “There’s nothing wrong with my eyes.” He grumbled, purposefully looking over to the bank of stained glass windows.

Quinn blinked at the comment that had.. very little to do with what all she had just said. Out of _all_ of that… that’s what he got? That was what he chose to comment on? She tilted her head slightly and looked at him… watching the muscle tick in his jaw. She obviously struck a nerve. She let out a shallow breath and sighed softly. “Hey…” She set her hand to his bicep, unknowingly right over that damaged tattoo. The look he shot her was… threatening at best, but she didn’t move her hand. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Cullen looked at her for a heartbeat, actually watching the hazel coloration in her eyes shift from more green… to more blue. The sincerity in her voice took him by surprise… so much so that he grew more than uncomfortable from it… he shrugged her hand off. “When are we heading out?”

Quinn could practically hear the bars rattle down between them, that was okay, better actually. She was pretty sure she wasn’t going to live past this coo of theirs anyway, best he not get to know her and she not get to know him. “Bron’s very specific about how I’m supposed to recruit people…” She turned away and walked back over to the chair, falling down into it with a sigh. “I’m supposed to meet them in the park… take them to a quiet place, like here but I usually only bring the women here… keep them at that quiet place for a few hours… make sure they aren’t being followed etc. Then, I take them to _the club_ … there… they have to be presented with a series of _tests_ … they pass those, then I can take them to him. They fail any of them, I’m supposed to tell him and point them out.” She shook her head. “Each time I don’t do that… well… let’s just say it ends up being a shitty night for me.”

Cullen trailed over to the other metal chair that was set up, bending slow, he finally sat down. He blinked at a few of the parts… the few hours thing was actually good… it gave him a chance to get some intel out of her. The tests though… that warranted a confused look… the last… he wasn’t sure how to feel about that, especially since she had just ran her hand through her hair and sighed heavily, looking off into the middle distance, not really caring if he replied or not apparently. For now, he addressed the most pressing issue. “What are the tests?”

Quinn frowned at him before she leaned back, lacing her hands over her taught abdomen. “Well, they’re supposed to drink absinthe… do a couple lines of cocaine… witness a drug deal… participate in a pimp out and then at the end of the night, participate in a tattoo. They deal with all of those things just fine and without too much pause… and they’re copacetic.”

Cullen… was more than confused on a few of those things. “Okay…” Doing questionable things while under cover wasn’t unheard of, drinking and drugging… again… not unheard of. “The last two things… what the hell are those?” He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees as he focused on her, his brows still held low, his stance still rigid.

Quinn shook her head at him. “A tattoo is like a beating… he’ll have someone that they’re beating on and you’ll have to put in a few swings, and you can’t hold back. You can’t be blood thirsty either… think of it like… okay… like you’re a security detail or something, like you’re a mob dude… and your boss said go hit that guy a few times. Voila.” She held a hand out as if to say _there you go_.

Cullen gave a sort of nod… not even bothering to feel guilty over the fact that he felt… no guilt over the fact he had no discomfort over the task. “Okay.” He cast a scant look at her. “And the other?”

Quinn made an uncomfortable face and crossed her arms over her chest. “If you were a woman, you’d be expected to give some guy head. But since you aren’t… you’ll be expected to receive it, and _enjoy_ it.”

Cullen’s brows perked slightly in a certain amount of disbelief. “Excuse me?” He blinked rapidly, his lips rolling in as he swallowed tensely.

Quinn looked at him with a sort of disbelieving look of her own. “ _That’s_ the part you have a problem with?”

Cullen sat up as supreme offense crossed his features. “Excuse me if I don’t want some skank all up on my junk, I happen to like being disease free, thank you very much.”

Quinn rolled her eyes at him. “You can disinfect when you get home.” She muttered under her breath, something about _men_.

Cullen threw his hand up and rubbed at the back of his neck, aiming to alleviate some of his mounting stress. He… officially hated this job. Just the thought that he’d have to… accept that… made his skin crawl. “Fine, whatever.” He ground out… it took him a few minutes before he started interrogating her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains drug use, alcohol use, violence, and sexual acts. Criminal type stuffs.

A few hours later, they left the church… and he knew more than he wanted to about every single one of Bron’s lackeys and the man himself. But he knew very little about the red headed woman with the smart mouth that was leading him down to the waterfront… and the club where he’d have to prove himself. He knew that she was born here in Ireland… somewhere in the north. She was twenty nine. She’d been with Bron’s crew since she was a teenager… she had no family to speak of. She had tried to get out when he turned terrorist. She didn’t say what happened but the way she lifted a slightly shaking hand to her jaw told him that the scar that was barely visible due to its location was the reason she didn’t leave. He got the distinct impression that she was tough as nails and had to be if she wanted to survive around Bron and his crew. He was also pretty sure that Quinn… was actually her real name. And… that was about it. She hadn’t given him anything else. Oh, and she was convinced that this mission of his… was going to get her killed by the end of it… because Bron… was never going to let her live if he found out she betrayed him. And… she was oddly okay with it… because _he needs to be stopped._ Cullen took a shallow but deep breath as he forced himself into his role… and followed her into the club.

When they sat at the bar, the tender immediately gave him the stink eye. Quinn and him exchanged a few words, the tender barked out a laugh… but dutifully slid him the drink that Quinn had told him would be coming. Cullen looked down at it like it was the weirdest thing he’d ever seen… but didn’t hesitate when Quinn gestured for him to drink it… her laughter filled his ear when he shuddered from the taste. _Act natural_ , was the best advice ever when going under cover. The bar tender clapped him on the side of the neck and handed him a Guinness. Apparently, he had passed with flying colors and Quinn winked at him over the rim of her own glass before they migrated to a table in the back of the club. They didn’t stay alone for long… a few men joined them… Cullen knew them from the identifying markers that Quinn had told him about. Troy and Darrell were already high… they offered some of their stuff to Quinn… she shook her head at them, Troy immediately snatched a handful of her hair at the base of her neck and growled in her ear, what he said, Cullen didn’t know… he couldn’t hear over the thumping base music. He saw the disgust cross Quinn’s face though… a moment later, she dutifully snorted down a line of the white powder, sitting back up with a sharp gasp, a look of complete discomfort on her face while Troy ran his tongue up her neck for an inch or two. Cullen turned away and bent low, hand lifted… one nostril plugged in a way that was stomach-churningly familiar. Though he’d long since moved on to a more direct route of taking the Lyrium by the time he’d left the Church… there had been a time… he sucked in sharp… a deep inhale… he sat up, a slow exhale through his mouth, eyes closed as he spread his arms over the back of the booth’s seat and melted into the vinyl. _Like a pro._ He heard Darrell say before Cullen blinked his eyes open and took a healthy drink of his lager. He saw Quinn sitting there a few feet away, drinking her own lager while Troy played with her hair absently, the man watching the people out on the dance floor at the other end of the club. For more than hour they all sat there and drank… and did a few more lines… Cullen was… thoroughly fucked up by the time Troy got on the phone, apparently there had been a deal at some point, he hadn’t even noticed. He felt a tug to his coat and looked up at Quinn… “Apparently we’re moving…” He mumbled as he slid from the booth and followed her, his legs blissfully numb… as was his lower back. He knew Darrell was behind him… Troy led the way. They went deeper into the club, well past the _no go_ area. Down a few stairs… he could still feel the base from down the hall when they hit the dimly lit area. He felt Darrell jerk his coat shoulder… and then hands on him. He blinked rapidly and held his hands up instinctively, the pins and needles feeling going out all over him as he was frisked and checked for a wire. “Didn’t know you felt that way…” He drawled out with a smirk.

Darrell chuckled and scoffed at the same time at the new dude. He was built like a fucking rock… not an ounce of fat on him, he was either a gym rat or a fucking soldier… or ex soldier, he’d had a few of them come through here. But… Quinny brought him in… they had to be sure. Even more so because it was her. He didn’t trust her, not like Bron. He knew that you damn sure didn’t trust someone after you scarred them up like that. “He’s clear.”

Cullen chuckled low at that statement. “Yeah… sure.” He leaned against the wall and let his head loll there as he took a deep breath, scrubbing at his face roughly. He heard Darrell agree with a bit of a laugh himself. _Well, clear enough._ He heard Troy and Quinn talking… and then the tone changed. He looked over at them with a confused expression. Troy was pushing her towards him… and Quinn looked… well… panicked, not to put too fine of a point on it.

Quinn dug her heels into the worn linoleum. “No, this isn’t.. I don’t _do this_ , Troy, you know that. Call him back… he… he must have made a mistake. Or you heard him wrong you fucking crack head!”

Troy shook his head at her, snatched a handful of her hair again and drug her over in front of the new dude and kicked at the back of her knee, sending her down to them in front of him. “I heard him just fine, do you see any other bitches here? Now do something good with that mouth for once.” He threw her head away from his hand as he stepped away, exchanging smug looks with Darrell as he passed him.

Darrell’s brows were perked and he couldn’t help but cover his mouth with a fist and make an _ooooh_ sound before he spoke around his own laughter. “Sorry Quinny, guess you’re wearing a few hats tonight…” He looked up at the dude, this.. _Ryan_. “Consider yourself honored, man. Enjoy.” He gave him a hungry grin before turning around and heading down the hall to stand at the end with Troy, who was looking down at Quinn with a look that promised further retribution if she didn’t do what Bron said.

Cullen looked down at Quinn, his expression intensified as he forced himself _not_ to show his shock… and his offense. His eyes though… anger settled in them fiercely though they were glazed over… he gave her a subtle shake of his head… she met his gaze… he saw her gut wrenching embarrassment… her hands shook as she reached for his belt, her eyes never leaving his, he watched as tears welled on her lower lashes. He covered her hands quickly, her brows pitched outwards as she stared up at him. Cullen’s lips formed a thin line as he cursed under his breath and eased his hold… he felt his belt go loose… she crowded him as he slid down the wall… he was.. much taller than she. He slammed his skull into the drywall, the base above hiding the sound. His boots finding purchase finally… he heard Darrell bark down the hall at her… he felt like flipping the man off, he didn’t though… he felt her jerk at the sudden yell. He felt his zipper ease down… and hated that his body was starting to respond to her close proximity. His jaw trembled for how hard he was mashing his molars together, forcing himself to not shove her away and find a way to just kill the entire faction right now. He made himself reach for her… his fingers sliding into her hair gently… he held her eye as she freed him, his chest heaving… he mouthed the words _I’m sorry_ to her… he swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat… his body betraying him on a number of levels. He saw her close her eyes tightly the moment before she took him in her mouth… he had no choice but to kick his chin up, his other hand diving into her hair, palming her as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. He felt his knees shake as she sucked him down… he covered her cheek and jaw with one hand, wiping away the tears he felt… he cradled her there, feeling her lean against his hand… he stroked her cheek with his thumb even though his hand shook… his mouth fell open when he looked back down at her. She held the base of him firmly as she worked him, he had no way of judging… but he couldn’t help how good her mouth felt. How wet her tongue was on him… her lips rolling over him had him biting on his lower lip. The world… simply vanished. When she opened her eyes and looked up at him… his breath caught… her pupils mirrored, shining gold up at him. _Mage_. The word whispered through his mind… his jaw tensed as his eyes flared… his pupils immediately flaring that telling blue as he bared his teeth, his grip tightening in her hair. He felt her hand cup him suddenly, almost too tightly… reminding him… what she was doing. As if he could forget! She sucked him down hard… his mouth fell open again as he trembled…

Darrell glanced over his shoulder… damn they were taking a long time. His jaw went slack and he slapped Troy’s shoulder. The man looked and they both just fucking stared. “Holy shit…” That dude, Ryan… he looked flat out _pissed_ … and his eyes were fucking glowing… “He’s a fucking Templar.”

Troy shook his head. “Have you ever seen a Templar do a line like that?”

Darrell’s lips pulled into a sinister grin. “Ex… Templar.” He nodded at Troy. “Hell yeah, Bron’s gonna be stoked.” Those guys were hella good at killing stuff, at hunting… “Guess we should have warned him that Quinny was a witch huh?” He threw back his head and shared a laugh with Troy, both returning their attention the other end of the hallway.

Quinn shook all over, fear pouring out of her in waves as he stared down at her with not but murder in his eyes, she felt his hold in her hair… _if Bron doesn’t kill me, he sure as hell will._ Bad enough she was already humiliated… might as well go out swinging, huh? She pulled him in deep, watched as he swayed, fought the feeling of his own body. She massaged his sack, watched as his power bloomed around him, arching out of him and pushing down on her, though he didn’t do it on purpose. He had pulled one hand away from her when he saw her eyes… he reached back for her, she couldn’t help but flinch violently, her teeth scraping over him accidently, her eyes slamming shut as she went completely still… waiting for the blow.

Cullen winced at the feeling of her teeth… but what made him wilt in his inebriated state was the way she actually expected him to hurt her. He cradled her cheek again instead, stroked her jaw softly… pulled at her, urging her to continue… his other hand, he eased his hold in her hair… slid further down the wall until his boots hit the other wall opposite him, still he was a good two feet off the ground. He ran his hand out of her hair and down her collar… reached further while he held her gaze intently… he took hold of her arm, pulled at her… removed her hand from him and wrapped her arm around his waist… started pulling at her other arm… she didn’t have to be instructed any further… she wrapped around him and he threw his head back as she sucked him down entirely. He palmed her crown and urged her to finish him. He felt her hands gripping his tee shirt beneath his coat. He wanted this to be over… and this was how she was going to get him… he needed to feel… close. He may not have a lot of experience but he knew what he wanted.

Quinn was shocked by his sudden tenderness… and even more by how close he wanted her to him. The moment she wrapped around him, she felt his length go harder, heard his breath rush out of him… he instantly got more into it. She felt his thighs against her ribs, felt them tremble, felt his abdomen tighten, her ear nearly to it entirely… she heard him silence himself. _He makes noise…_ she thought aimlessly, trying to focus on anything other than… she felt his hands on her… one on her head, urging her to move faster… the other he flew down her back, he pulled at her coat desperately… his entire body was starting to move just slightly.

Cullen had his eyes closed tight, his entire body tensing and easing in a rhythm with her… he wanted to move so bad… he wanted to thrust into her… he wanted much more than her mouth in that moment. His length strained… his breath sawed before he went tense… he pulled at her jaw in warning… she ignored him… he sucked in a sharp breath, held it… pulled at her hair, trying to pull her off of him… she sank down onto him instead. He couldn’t help the way his lower back shifted, the way his hips rolled just enough, the way he thrust into her the slightest bit as he came. He clinched his teeth, a growl sounding off in his throat as he did his best not to twist his hips… he felt her suckle him gently, and swallow him down. He looked down at her sharply… shock evident on his features. That… was… rather personal.

Quinn looked up at him as she pulled away… letting him see the mess… his eyes burned down at her before she stood up and stepped over his leg, wiped her mouth and stormed past the two lackeys, shoving at them violently before she moved to sit on the stairs. She… didn’t know why she’d done what she did for _Ryan_. Probably because he’d apologized before… probably because he hadn’t fucking hit her… because he’d been gentle when he didn’t have to be. Because he was her only ally in this fucked up world at the moment.

Cullen tucked himself away, stood up, zipped up and cinched his belt, taking a deep breath before rejoining Darrell and Troy… casting an unreadable look at Quinn… before they moved on. He was… sadly… grateful for the next _test_. He had some pent up frustrations now… so beating on some guy wasn’t exactly difficult to do. He could have gone without the peanut gallery though… and the nearly dead way Quinn looked at him. Though, why it mattered, he had no idea. When he stood up after following through a particularly nasty punch… the way he pushed the guy away from him with a sneer… disgust snapping in his eyes… the way she fucking looked at him.

The meeting with Bron later… was… actually less eventful. Cullen was frisked again… he was asked a few questions… but mostly, Quinn did the talking. And, just like she said she would, she sold the ex-Templar angle. Bron bought it, hook line and sinker, looking at Cullen with a certain amount of hunger that was… practically creepy. _Oh, I have big plans for you…_ Bron had said, setting his hands to Cullen’s cheeks and jaw, looking slightly up to him for Cullen’s height. _Big.. big plans. Welcome… Brother._ Cullen was proud of the way he didn’t sneer at the man. “About time.” Cullen said with a dark smirk.

He watched as Bron wrapped an arm around Quinn’s neck and jerked her against him, damn near purring at her while he ran his finger down her scar. “See, Quinny… it’s not so hard doing what you’re told to do.” He slapped her cheek almost too harshly two times before he kissed her roughly and pushed her away. “Make sure he gets home alright… and tuck him in, like a good girl.”

Quinn felt like she was going to puke as she smiled at Bron and nodded. “Of course.” She gave Ryan a coy look and lead him out of the dock side shack… and back towards St. Patrick’s.


	4. Chapter 4

She was five blocks into Dublin before she stumbled to the side of the buildings, had to lean… and puked. “Oh God…” She braced her hand on the stone… feeling sweat bloom out all over her.

Cullen frowned slightly at her. “What’s wrong with you?”

Quinn shot him a look, wiping at her mouth with the back of her sleeve. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

Cullen looked at her for a moment before immediately feeling… uncomfortable. “If this is about… what… happened in the hallway… Quinn…” He blinked as she threw a hand up at him, showing him her palm.

Quinn shook her head. “Just… stop talking.” She felt her stomach roll as she started back down the street. “I just want to…” She held a hand over her mouth and took a slow step before continuing. “Get somewhere with running water so I can brush my teeth. So… where do you live?”

Cullen looked at her carefully. “What’s wrong with your place?” He didn’t miss how she purposefully didn’t answer him, instead, she walked faster. He took a few jogging steps and took hold of her arm, only for her to jerk away roughly. “Hey…” He showed her his hand in a placating gesture. “Quinn…”

Quinn eyeballed him. “Look, I just need to use your bathroom for like fifteen minutes okay? Then I’ll go.”

Cullen wasn’t sure… what… she wasn’t looking at him now though. He saw how she was shifting her weight. _She’s homeless._ He frowned before sighing heavily and stepping back towards the street and flagging down a cabbie. “Come on.” He slid down into the seat and when she joined him and shut the door, he spoke to the driver. “St. Augustine’s Hotel.”

Quinn raised a brow at him, Cullen ignored her and just rested his eyes. When the cab came to a stop, he jerked his eyes back open, having been drifting. He paid the man and got out, following her up onto the curb until he passed her, and lead her up to his room. Knowing it was a horrible idea… he was blowing about ten kinds of rules… but he snuck her in anyway, since it wasn’t that big of a deal… he was deep under here but still, it might raise questions. “It’s through there.” He pointed as he tossed his keys on the dresser and worked his jacket off. He felt… oddly eased and yet, more sexually frustrated than ever before. Just knowing that he’d gotten off… and yet… not… and that she was the one who’d… he remembered suddenly what she was. He closed his eyes and forced that old hate back down. He wasn’t a Templar anymore… hadn’t been for years… it wasn’t his problem that she was an Apostate. He pulled his tee shirt off, tank was next… his tags rattling free as he heard the water cut on and the telling sound of a tooth brush. He ran a hand through his hair roughly, freeing it from its carefully crafted mold. He couldn’t help but smirk at her earlier description of it… he sat down at the foot of the bed and worked his boots off… and just… laid down. He only intended on resting his eyes… but before he knew it… he was out, one arm thrown up over his head… his soft snore sounding off.

Quinn used the hand towel to dry both her hands and her face, hanging it back up perfectly before she opened the bathroom door. “Well, Chuckles… I’m…” She blinked as she saw him laid out on the bed. One… that was a hell of a lot of skin… two… she heard him snoring. She couldn’t help but smirk as she walked over, folding her arms over her chest as she leaned over the bed slightly. Her features fell… at all… the scars. _Holy hell…_ She had already seen the one on his lip… that was jarring enough… though it was almost completely hidden by his beard. The rest though… _bullet wounds_. He looked like he’d been hit by a firing squad! She frowned before she reached… gently setting her hand to his shoulder. He jerked violently and shied away from her touch, his brow shooting down in warning… but he didn’t wake. “Okay…” She said low. She pulled at the blankets on the other side of him and just… kind of… wrapped them over him, half assed covering him up. She glanced back at the bathroom… at him… bathroom… him… and went back in there, she couldn’t resist a shower. She washed quickly, dried even quicker and redressed. When she stepped out, he was just as she had left him… she carried her boots as she padded out of his room, into the living room where she sat on the couch to tie them… but… she… laid down, for just a moment… just a quick rest… she was so damn tired. It had been weeks since she’d had somewhere quiet, warm… dry… to just… _be_. She was already asleep when she pulled her legs up onto the couch and somewhat stretched out, her jacket sliding off her shoulder and falling onto the carpet, it having been hanging there since she hadn’t put it on yet.


	5. Chapter 5

Cullen woke up in a tangle of blankets… his brow creased in confusion. He sat up and nearly fell off the bed entirely… he caught himself just in time. He scrubbed at his face and stumbled into the bathroom… noting that the shower curtain was open, which was odd… he shook his head, trying to wake himself up. He returned to the bedroom, popped his daily dose of _fuck-it-all_ and made way for the kitchen… he was actually going to use it today, at least… he was going to use the coffee maker. He went through the motions, slapped the top thing in, filled it up with water, put the carafe under it, flipped the switch, turned around… his jeans riding low on his hips as he yawned deeply, scrubbing at his scarred bicep, smacking his lips as he leaned against the counter… seeing Quinn on the sofa… he looked back at the coffee maker before he startled violently, his attention snapping back to her. He walked over to her fast a first… then… slow until he paused. Her auburn hair was near fire red for the way the sun was hitting it through the split in the curtains… she looked… so much younger when she was asleep. Her jacket and boots were on the floor… make that… one boot. The other was half-assed laced on her left foot. He couldn’t help but smirk and give a breath of a chuckle through his nose at that. He side stepped and sat down on the coffee table, tilting his head as he studied her features. She was actually… quite beautiful, now that he was seeing her in the light. She had a defiant chin… a pert little nose… and freckles damn near _everywhere_. Even her eyelashes were auburn. That scar… at this angle, he could really see it… it was silver, which said she’d had it for awhile… and it was jagged… telling him the blade hadn’t been sharp… which meant it had hurt like hell. His lips formed a thin, disapproving line at that. He noticed she wore a part of her hair in a braid, it started just there at the base of her neck… and had a chunk of blonde in it, as if some of her hair had forgotten that it was supposed to be in the red spectrum. He saw… he frowned as he shifted his weight, leaning closer… he shook his head slightly, cursing in his mind as he saw the brand there on the back of her neck. The one that marked her as an Apostate… she’d been caught by the church before. By one of his brethren. Ex… brethren. No wonder she had been scared of him in that moment last night. _Last night_. He could still see the humiliation in her eyes… the fear… the embarrassment. His groin tensed at the memory though, no matter the circumstances… he remembered the feeling of her mouth on him. He knew that probably made him the world’s biggest douche… but… well… he didn’t blame his body. He took his vows when he was eighteen. He was thirty five, do the math. Even though he’d been without Lyrium for three years… for a variety of reasons, he hadn’t sought anyone out. He shifted his weight uncomfortably before he heard the coffee maker beep at him. He reached, his hand settling on her shoulder, her being on her stomach… he gave her a gentle nudge. “Hey… Quinn.”

Her eyes flew open, but it was obvious she was still asleep. He nearly fell back as she cried out, jerked away from him, turned, curled up, her hands covering her face and neck as she scrambled away from him, nearly falling off the couch all together. “Hey! Hey… easy!” He lunged, grabbing hold of her forearms, pulling her back before she could tumble off the arm of the couch… “Quinn!” He shook her slightly, his heart slamming around in his chest from her sudden eruption off the couch. She was wide eyed with panic, her entire body shaking.

Quinn’s lungs burned as she panted, her breath sawing in and out of her as she tasted metal… terror flooding her as she looked around frantically. “Get away!” Her voice broke both from sleep and fear. “Don’t! Don’t touch me!” She tried to twist out of the hands that held her. The voice, the shake… she blinked and stilled… the world coming into focus… piercing light brown eyes stared back at her. Her whole body shook as she swayed with each breath, her brows held in confusion. “… Ryan?”

Cullen frowned at the fake name but he’d not give her his real one. “Easy.” He said again, watching her eyes clear, the burning light in her pupils starting to dim. _Jesus…_ he gave her a guarded look at the way she’d reacted to being woken up. _How many times… had they gone after her for her to react this way?_ He swallowed against the tension in his throat as he saw her chin tremble, saw the way her jaw tightened… she was trying to keep herself held together. “Easy.” He said it again… he didn’t know… what else to say.. he felt the silence drag out between them as she just… stared at him. He cleared his throat and pulled away, heading into the kitchenette. He pulled out two of those generic coffee mugs and filled them both up… set one on the coffee table for her before backing away slow, taking a lean on the counter again. He… was just going to be really quiet… and really still for awhile while he let that Liriodone do its job.

Quinn swallowed roughly and nodded though she felt far from soothed… not that she was expecting to. Hell, she woke up in some strange dude’s apartment… with him leering over her in not but jeans. What the _fuck_. She scrubbed at her face in a rather unladylike manner and didn’t care what it looked like. She blinked from behind parted fingers as he approached and set… a cup of coffee in front of her? She watched him retreat and do the whole _man thing_. The whole… not make any sudden movements thing. She rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly before hiking the heel of her boot up onto the couch and lacing it up properly, tying it… and pulling her other one on. “Thanks.” She said it quiet and low, non descript as to what she was actually thanking him for. She startled violently as a loud, obnoxious beeping went off… she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, digging around in her pocketbook for the pager, clicking the few buttons on the top before giving it a tight lipped look. “I gotta go.” She stood up almost too fast, her head spinning a bit just from the sudden change in altitude. She pulled her coat on, pocket book… pager stuck back in there.

Cullen watched her carefully… she was obviously uncomfortable and who the hell wouldn’t be? He was pretty sure that she hadn’t intended on falling asleep… the whole one boot thing kind of gave that away. And waking up in a stranger’s apartment? Probably not the best way to start the day. But the way she seemed to just roll with it… well, he guessed it was a trait she’d had to develop. The sudden blaring beep that reminded him more of a smoke alarm in the states than anything else made his heart leap up into his throat though, he nearly spilt his own coffee. He stared at the pager as if it were a relic from the distant past… because it was. He often forgot that they were still used frequently, especially when… people… didn’t want to be tracked. He couldn’t help but feel a little bit impressed with her over that. Older pagers, unlike modern cell phones, didn’t have the ability to be tracked via GPS or satellite, they were literally ghosts in the world of digital communications. And he bet pounds to pints that if you called whatever number it was, you’d get a voicemail… and that voicemail would send the pager whatever number had called… and she could dial into said voicemail from any phone… and collect messages. But the number displayed told her who had just called, or rather… tried to call her. She was probably known as one of those people who _never answered her phone_. Because… she didn’t have one. But _they_ didn’t know that. _Smart_. Whoever it was though… she wasn’t happy about it… though… that wasn’t saying much. In fact, nothing about her had told him much beyond personal things. In fact… damn it… he knew far more personal things about her than non-personal things. Which was really starting to piss him off. He watched as she got ready, collected her meager things… and made for the door, leaving the cup of coffee untouched. “I’ll be expecting a call then?” He drawled.

Quinn stalled out with her hand on the knob and glanced over her shoulder at him. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Her tone had suddenly turned serious, her hazel eyes probing him intently.

Cullen blinked at the sudden question, the tone… the way she was looking at him, the concern he saw just there on the edges. He set the mug down on the counter and took the few strides over to her and folded his arms over his chest and gave her a firm nod. “I’m here to do a job, Quinn. What I want is irrelevant. You said it last night… Bron has to be stopped.” He watched as something flickered across her eyes… he wasn’t entirely sure what it was… sadness? Worry? He wasn’t sure but it damn sure wasn’t good. She gave him a subtle nod.

Quinn felt _despair_ pull at her. Ryan seemed like a decent guy… true… he no doubt knew what he was doing but… she _knew_ these guys. They killed for _fun_. They were the worst sort of terrorist. They got in your head first before they ended you… and when they did end you? It was usually because you asked them to. And that was people they didn’t care about. People that betrayed them? A whole different ball game. She gave him a nod and returned her attention to the brass knob in her hand. “I’ll come by and get you later… just…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Get some more rest, Ryan… you’re going to need it.” She jerked the knob and stepped out into the hall, hearing the _whoosh_ of the aided door shut behind her as she beat feet down the worn hotel carpet, aiming for the elevator.


	6. Chapter 6

Cullen set his hand to the door, helping it along the last few inches, sliding over the dead bolt once it clicked shut. He’d heard the resignation in her voice… and realized then what he’d seen. Worry… and a certain amount of despair… for him, for her… for the situation period. She didn’t want him doing this… she didn’t want anyone doing this. Not because she didn’t want it to stop… but because she thought he was going to get hurt. He rubbed at the center of his chest aimlessly as he made way to the bathroom… he needed a shower. He could still smell the club on his skin… taste the liquor and the cocaine the back of his throat. He glanced down at his knuckles… a few nicks that were red and irritated from that guy’s face. He’d doctor them after he cleaned up. He kicked the spray on nearly all hot and dropped his jeans, boxers… stepped in and went about the ritual of soaping up. That same feeling settling into his bones as he ran the bar over the scars… he forced himself to focus on the task ahead instead of the rabbit hole.

She said tonight… Bron said he had _big plans_ for him. He could still see the loathsome man slap at Quinn’s cheek and shove her towards him. He was the worst sort of low life, wasn’t even top rung but those stupid Isis fuckers had given him the power of such. And Quinn was caught right in the middle of it. Quinn… he shook his head, his features set into a firm expression. She didn’t deserve any of this… he didn’t know jack about her past, but he was generally a good judge about people… and she was the decent sort. Hell, judging by the way she acted last night alone told him so much about her. She was proud and didn’t sell her body… didn’t use the fact that she was female to gain favors. He remembered the way she looked up at him… the humiliation in her eyes… suddenly he fumbled the soap, the bar clattering to the tub.

He swallowed roughly and set his hands to the tile in front of him, beneath the shower head and took a steadying breath. His groin tightening further on him at the memory… not of the way she looked up at him… but of what had happened. The way she… felt. He closed his eyes tightly. “Stop.” He ground out to himself, leaning and setting his forehead to the chilled ceramic. It was the job. It was just the job. He knew that. She knew that. But damn… it had felt good. His cock jerked, jutting away from himself as it wept from the thought of her mouth on him… the feeling of her tongue as she sucked him down.

He clinched his fists, his breath starting to saw as he pivoted his brow on the tile, shaking his head at himself. And the worst part… he’d wanted her. In that single moment… he’d wanted nothing more than to pull her off of him… jerk her jeans down and drive himself into her. He wanted to feel her around him, fuck her until she screamed… all thoughts and feelings he was so not used to having. His lips parted as he panted… “God damn it.” He cursed low, his entire groin starting to ache. The way she had wrapped around him, accepted his slight instruction… given him what he needed to come? He caught the groan in his throat even now, his cock tensing again. And then she swallowed what he gave… which was completely and totally… “Hot as hell.” He mumbled, shaking his head at himself.

He bent down, picking the soap back up as he winced from the discomfort… and finished cleaning his body… mindful to avoid his groin and now throbbing cock. He rinsed off and got out, trying to convince himself that his… condition… would ebb. Toweling off was another matter all together… and even more difficult than he thought it would be. Every time the terry cloth brushed over his fevered skin, he’d suck in a sharp breath and have to close his eyes, brace his hand on the counter top and have to just… stand there for a moment. He managed it though and pulled on a fresh pair of boxer briefs from the bathroom cabinet, where he kept his underwear… because he was efficient like that. Tucking himself away though… that… now _that_ … required he handle his rigid length. The moment he took hold of himself, he groaned and sagged against the wall… he couldn’t stop himself from giving his cock one long stroke from base to tip and back down again. He bit at his lower lip and pitched his chin up… feeling a bead of pre-cum slide down his shaft. _Pathetic._

The word ricocheted through his mind, which had him tucking his near purple cock away right quick and in a hurry. He made way back into the bedroom and thought about getting back in bed… she had said to get some more rest. But he also needed to eat… it’d been… a few days. That was another thing he often forgot to do… Liriodone, like Lyrium, had that side effect. He pulled out a pair of jeans but just fucking stood there in front of the closet… eye balling the bed… but he knew if he got in there, he wouldn’t go to sleep… he’d relieve the tension in his groin with her face in his mind and her name on his lips.

 _Enough_. He barked at himself inside his head and tossed his jeans onto the bed as he passed it, pulling a pair of sweats out of the dresser instead. He jerked them on roughly, a ribbed tank next… pulled his running shoes out from under the bed and laced them on. He’d run this off, punish his body… that was the ticket. He slid the arm band on… snatched his headphones from the desk as he passed… poured the coffee(s) out… set up his iPod, mashed the green play button on his playlist… and hit the door.. hallway… _stairs._ Before he knew it… that hard-on was long gone, even before he spilled out onto the street. The brisk morning air biting at his bare arms… he immediately broke into a steady jog… crossed the street… and aimed for the running path that would take him on a ten mile jaunt around Dublin’s softer side.

Most people ran to clear their heads… Cullen ran to fill it. It was the only time he could really think without it getting all discombobulated. He fell into the rhythm of the music… his sneakers hitting the pavement and cobblestones steady, his muscles all starting to burn in that way that was oddly comforting. His blonde hair left without gel for once… which was okay, he had stuffed a beanie on before he left the apartment. With his stature and physic, he was left well alone whenever he was out and about like this. The scar and corresponding Templar tattoo… only added to the whole _do not touch_ look about him… his dog tags? Even more so. That was the only thing he could usually lean on… those tags. Templars had them too… thus… he could still… as Quinn had pointed out… _use that_. It still sucked though, being mistaken for one of the Order _all the god damned time._ But he didn’t want to think about _that_. He ran through the members of Bron’s _crew_. The ones that he’d seen… which were only about half of them last night… and then the ones that Quinn had told him about. Quinn… the Apostate.

His lips formed a thin line as he stepped off the curb and booked it across the narrow vacant street. He still wasn’t comfortable with her in general… even less now than he was before, for a number of reasons. One… she had gone down on him. He knew she had done it only because she’d had to but then again… there at the end? He wasn’t so sure, at least… at the very end. It was… complicated. It had begun as a _requirement_ … for the ruse. He knew that, one hundred percent. The discovery that she was a _mage_ and the corresponding response from _both_ of them only proved that even more, as if there had been any doubt. He tacked the last on sarcastically in his head, rounding a corner he’d turned so many times since he’d been in the city. But he’d… wanted to comfort her. Seeing her wince away from him the way she did had made him want to prove to her… for some fucked up reason… that he wasn’t _that_ man anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And... here comes a PTSD episode. :( Violence to follow... :(

He wasn’t a Templar, god damn it! He wouldn’t hurt her simply because she was a mage, even if his knee jerk reaction had been biased fury. It had been beat into him since… hell, since he was barely old enough to shave. He’d been dedicated to the Church when he was thirteen. Hadn’t been home since. It was an _honor_ to be sent to the Church… and like everything regarding honor in his opinion… _honor, my ass._ Oh, he knew he was bitter. But he was fairly certain that the whole honor bit, at least regarding Templars and soldiers… was just a line of bullshit they told boys so they would go and bleed for whatever fucked up reason they were being sent into battle for. Someone else’s fight… never his own. That was what he’d come to realize.

He turned away from that line of thinking, knowing exactly where it went. Forced himself to return to the original train of thought… hazel eyes that changed with her mood chased him down the narrow side streets along ancient cathedrals. Dublin had so many of them… you couldn’t take a piss without overspray hitting at least one church. At least… that’s how it felt to him. He tried to skip past the _hallway_ in his head but his mind jerked his attention right back to it… like a dog with a bone, no pun intended. Or was there a pun there? Hell, he didn’t even know anymore. He picked up his pace as he felt that _need_ start to burn in his groin but thankfully that part of his body had stopped begging for attention by the time he had left his apartment. She had been… there at the end?

Damn. It had felt… so damn… _personal_. She’d… held him. And that was the rub, wasn’t it? He hadn’t felt arms around him like that in… hell, forever. _That’s not true._ He ignored that errant thought, gritting his teeth at the reminder. There was a time… once… when he’d held a woman… though he didn’t touch her beyond a few embraces. She had been a mage too… forbidden in every sense of the word. She had been a sanctified. One of the mages that served within the secure walls of the cathedrals. The church had owned her just as much as it had owned him. At least Quinn looked nothing like… _her_. Thank God for that. Surana had been… well… she had been one of the elvhan for starters.

Descendant from an ancient race that had long since fallen into myth… the only thing remaining in her veins had been the slightest taper of her ears, nothing more. But she had a natural grace about her that had captivated his young, freshly vowed mind. She was… alluring in a way that… hell, he was infatuated, there was no two ways about it. He could try and spin it however he wanted…  but he had coveted her. That was probably one of the reasons Lyrium did what it did to _that_ part of their anatomy. He couldn’t have done anything even if he… and there he went again, trying to spin it. He could have. He could have touched her… and she probably would have welcomed him. He couldn’t even count the number of nights he’d laid in his bunk thinking about what she’d feel like under his hands.

But his body had never stirred, not once. Thanks to the Lyrium. It didn’t stop his mind from wondering… or wandering. He hit the long stretch of straight road that would return him to the extended stay apartments… a good three miles down the lane. He picked up his pace again, climbing into a full on run, feeling all his muscles scream at him in protest. He deserved it. His features hardened as the rubber in his soles beat the pavement, feeling the reverberation pound up through his bones. He had to put Quinn out of his mind. It was stupid. The whole thing was… fucking stupid. Hadn’t he learned anything?

He couldn’t become even remotely soft towards Quinn… or hard for that matter. It was his compassion towards Surana… his… fucking infatuation with her that had… he felt the anxiety grip his heart, squeezing it tight… forcing him to run faster and not out of his own will. He could still feel the slithering words of the daemon in his mind… see her dead eyes staring down at him… he felt the tremble work down his spine, spear him into moving even faster… by the time he hit the door to the apartment building, he tore it open and knew… he was actually running _from_ the feeling. He was fleeing… up the stairs, down the hall, he fumbled the key in the lock… his hands were shaking so much… he felt terror filling him up, he cursed loudly as he dropped the keys. “Fuck!”

Quinn’s brow was held in… confusion and… worry. A whole lot of… caution… as she walked down the hall, having slowed when she saw Ryan trying to get into his own apartment and looking like he’d just been chased half way across the freaking country. “Ryan?” She called cautiously. He cursed when he dropped the keys… he didn’t pick them up… he just tried to wretch the knob over by sheer force. “Jesus.” She walked over to him quickly, bent down and grabbed the keys and reached between him and the door, she saw his eyes… they were open but damned if it looked like no one was home as he set his temple to the door… or at least… he wasn’t there _right now_. She turned the lock over and he barreled in. It was like… he didn’t even see her. That was… well, scary… not to put too fine of a point on it. She eased the key out of the lock and seriously considered just tossing the keys inside and shutting the door but… now… she wasn’t sure… had he been chased? Was someone after him? Did Bron figure it out?! She swallowed roughly, feeling her _own_ fear. She stepped inside and shut the door… threw over every single lock on the thing and leaned against it as she heard things… just… being knocked over in the bedroom. She took long but silent steps, stealthy type steps over to the bedroom door and looked in, her mouth falling open as she watched Ryan tearing through his dresser drawers with wide… wild looking eyes… a look of pure panic on his face.

Cullen felt the surge of _need_ burning in his veins… he could _hear_ them. _Oh, beautiful Templar… what fun you’ll be… you like her, don’t you… want to see her, don’t you… your brothers did, they had so much fun their poor hearts couldn’t take it… here, let me show her to you…_ he braced his weight on the dresser, his palms digging into the edge. “… Through all before me is shadow…” His tenor shook as his lungs rattled, his bones jingled inside of him… and he felt like he was trying to claw out of his own skin. He flat out jerked another drawer out of the dresser all together, turning it out and falling down to his knees, slapping useless junk away as he hunted. Like any good addict… he always kept… just one hit… hidden somewhere. He just… couldn’t remember where it was right now. He cried out as he pressed the heel of his palm to his left eye, pushing as he shook. _Look at her, Templar, she wants you to fuck her… come on, touch her… I know you want to. I can smell your desire…_ “Yet shall the Maker be my guide… I shall not…” He sucked in a sharp breath as he braced his weight again, his jaw clinching down tight on him through no control of his own. He slammed his eyes shut and forced through it. “I shall not be left to…” He let out a rush of breath and yelled out defiantly, anger soaking through him as he sent his fist through one of the dresser drawers, his entire body blooming in renewed pain.

Quinn just… stared in shock. She couldn’t… she heard how strained his voice was… saw all his muscles tense and twitching… his entire body seemed to be soaked with sweat. He was… praying. Or… trying to. Then she yelped and jumped at his violent outburst, covering her mouth quickly and immediately regretting that she ever came in here, his head snapped up, his eyes blooming in that bright blue light as he pinned her with a fierce look. She held a hand out to him. “I’m sorry… I… Ryan… I…” She could hardly track him, he moved so fast.

Cullen’s entire world was spinning around him so fast, he was dizzy… that single yelp, that outward sound that seemed to slip in through the cracks at that opportune moment ground it all to a jarring halt. He looked up… _Mage_. The word growled out from behind clinched teeth… the next thing he knew, he felt soft flesh giving way under his hands, felt a warm body trapped beneath his own, all his muscles flooding with aggression and rage as he pinned her down to the floor. He could sense the Lyrium in her veins… and it only served to piss him off even more. He felt one of her hands on him, just there on his jaw… her thumb around his throat as he strained. _Ryan, look at me!_ He shook his head sharply before barking down at her. “Stop calling me Ryan!” He couldn’t think, he couldn’t… focus. He _needed_ a draft. He slammed his eyes shut, his chin aimed for his chest as his back bowed. _Touch her, Templar, I know you want to. Feel her tight cunt, they all loved it. You will to. I’ll make sure she’s nice and wet for you._ He shook uncontrollably as he tightened his hold on her.. one hand on her wrist, the other in her hair, his thighs on either side of her own. His entire body was rigid… everywhere. “You’re going to go… and get me… a draft… from that church.” He growled down at her before pinning her with a threatening look.

Quinn jumped violently at the way he yelled at her… then he seemed to slip again. But… the last words… and the way he said them, the look in his eyes… how he tightened his grip… she swallowed against the nervousness and fear in her chest… and gave a defiant shake of her head. “No… no I won’t.”

“You’ll do as you’re told, Mage!” Cullen’s voice broke, he screamed at her so loud, it tore at his throat… he watched as she cringed away from him in fear. It barely registered for how far gone he was… his entire being shook, all the way to his soul. This… was why so few Templars ever left the church’s yoke. Lyrium was carefully controlled… and without it… Templars suffered. They went mad… for him? And others who had been through horrible events… it was worse. Liriodone was a poor substitute and it only took care of the pain, never helped in these intense situations. _Fine… you don’t want her? I’ll have her myself and you’ll watch… and then you’ll go the same way your brothers did… whether you like it or not…_ Cullen felt like clawing his own eyes out, his entire body felt like it was on fire… everything, everywhere, was just… too… much. “I can’t… these memories won’t _leave_ me… I need it!” He barked out suddenly, still not having the strength to open his eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the storm rages on...

Quinn was terrified… he was a… big man and he was much stronger than she was. She was no battle mage, hardly trained at all… tended to happen when you spent your life teaching your body _not_ to use its _gift_ as opposed to honing it. “I can’t get you any.” She managed, her voice shaking out of her. She could hear the pain in his voice… feel it coming off of him in waves of anguish. “I’m sorry…” She reached, her fingers trembling… she set her hand to his cheek and felt her heart wilt for him at the way he pinned her hand between his cheek and shoulder, leaning into it something fierce, desperate for the contact. _I should be taking it._ She heard his tenor break out of him. “No.” She said it quiet but it was there, her brows pitched outward. She realized in that moment that… he hadn’t hurt her. Not yet anyway. But… he could have. He could have really fucked her up. And he didn’t. He was still in it, deep… but… he could have hurt her right away and he hadn’t. “Look at me.” She spoke so softly for a moment, she wondered if he heard her at all because he didn’t move beyond the shaking. When he did look at her, it wasn’t tentative, it was all at once… and it was fierce… rage still soaking him… and his eyes were throwing off some serious blue light.

Cullen stared down at her… her hazel eyes were damn near blue entirely but… that could have just been the reflection. He… he couldn’t be sure. He wasn’t sure of _anything_. He just… he _needed_ lyrium. He needed it. “It’s inside you.” He nearly growled, suddenly bending low and setting his nose to her throat, breathing her scent in deep… he could fucking smell it… that’s how bad he wanted it. _Needed_ it. “I can feel it.” He squeezed his eyes shut tight as he shook all over violently. “It’s not fucking fair!” He barked out suddenly… because it wasn’t. She didn’t need it or want it! Yet she had it in her all the time… while he… he… he jerked sharply as he felt her shifting beneath him, but… it was… he felt her legs wrap around his waist, her body cradle him intimately. He was too raw, all over… his entire body, all over was hypersensitive. “What… what… are you doing…” He managed.

Quinn knew… she had to get him to snap out of this. She couldn’t give him what he wanted… but she had to get him to snap the fuck out of this… one track mind thing. She moved, settled her legs around him and was actually caught off guard. He was… hard all over. All… of his muscles… were rigid. She hadn’t noticed until that moment. She had… figured… if she got him… well… if she redirected some of that… intensity, he could maybe… snap out of it. But… damned if he wasn’t already… well, hard as a fucking rock to put it bluntly. “Distracting you.” She breathed, shocked that he was… well… yeah. She knew it probably made her seem slutty… but he was a guy… and guys generally could be swayed pretty damn easily by this.

Cullen growled low, rage saturating him. “You think you can fuck your way out of this?” He jerked her hair roughly. “Like some desire daemon?” He hissed down at her, even as he heard her yelp and whimper from how tight his hold in her hair had gone, even as he felt her hand on his shoulder, pushing at him.

Quinn’s scalp bloomed in pain… _okay, bad idea._ “No…” Well, sort of, not really. “I wasn’t going to let you fuck me, Ryan…”

“Stop calling me fucking Ryan!” He yelled at her again.

“Then what the fuck am I supposed to call you!?” She barked back.

Cullen nearly shouted his name at her, but he bit it back at the last second. “Nothing.” He growled down at her.

Quinn barely contained her scoff. “I wasn’t going to let you fuck me. But I was going to distract you.” She said honestly. “And judging by the hard on you got, I would wager you wouldn’t mind!” She yelped again when he jerked her again. “Stop pulling my hair!”

Cullen trembled again, all over… that feeling lighting him up at the way she was yelling back at him. Though her words… he blinked once… took stock of his body and… realized that he was actually hard as hell. And it, like the rest of his body, ached something fierce. _This just keeps getting better and better._ But that hate, that biased… fear fueled hate reared up inside him. “No doubt, something you did, _mage_.” He didn’t relent his hold but… he didn’t pull her hair again.

Quinn shot him an angry look. “Oh yeah! I love it when strange guys rub their cock all over me!” She barked at him, he started to ease his hold on her for a second… but then he seemed to come unglued again, she saw his eyes dim… and then flash violently before he yelled out and slammed his fist down into the floor, she heard the sickening crack of his knuckles, knowing he’d broken at least one of them, probably all of them. He didn’t even seem to fucking notice! “Will you stop!?” She hated the way her voice pitched.

Cullen was starting to ease… her reminder of… what he knew about her… started to break through the fog… but then… _you missed out on the chance of a life time, Templar… you could have had your cock all over her…_ he yelled, struck… didn’t even feel the buckle of his knuckles against the wooden floor. His nose was against hers as he seethed down at her. “You will not twist my mind with your sinister words… _temptress_.”

Quinn’s eyes flared at him… _holy shit, he’s fucking loosing it._ This… this was far beyond Lyrium withdrawals. This was some serious… rabbit hole… dark dark reaches of his mind shit. His voice shook, his entire body did, his hair having falling over his brow even trembled. _He’s going to fucking kill me if I don’t do something…_ she had no spell that would do a damn thing, not with his powers the way they were, completely out of his fucking control. Hell, _he_ was out of his control. She… just acted. She craned her neck, slammed her lips against his own, her eyes shutting tight as she just prayed. She felt him stiffen violently and then… melt down onto her, pivoting on her lips and slip his tongue into her mouth and damn near kiss her blind. _Holy shit…_ he kissed her the way a woman was supposed to be kissed… like… she felt it throughout her entire body! She felt his hand on her wrist ease… and then he pulled it up… and over his neck… directing her arm around him (like the night before…) she wrapped both of her arms around him, embraced him… he actually groaned deep in his throat at that. She felt his hand in her hair ease… his fingers spread out and cup her jaw, the side of her neck… his thumb trace that scar she hated so much.

Cullen was furious one second and then… stunned stupid the next… followed by… blessed relief. He sank down into the kiss… tasting the sweet tingle of Lyrium on his tongue. He… he wanted her to hold him. _Quinn_ … her name bounced around his still unstable mind. He groaned at the feeling of her arms around him… his cock rolled in tension all on its own. He reached down with his free hand… felt her knee… felt… nylon… _stockings_. He ran his hand up her thigh, feeling the slight catch on his calluses… felt the hem of… a skirt? He had no idea what she was even wearing. His fingers brushed over the edge of… _thigh highs… mother fucker, thigh high stockings._ He felt his cock weep at that alone. His palm filled with skin… he reached further, held onto her hip when he found it, feeling the slip of cotton between his hand and her. He wanted inside her, now… he wanted to… feel her… around him. He spread his knees, his sweat pants stretching as his cock shifted inside of them, bent awkwardly inside his boxers… he lifted his hips, had to reach between them, arrange himself… and then returned exactly as he had been, but now… now he was in line with her. He felt her suck on his tongue, his entire body twisted from the feeling… he groaned loud for her. He was… slowly slipping into heaven. He broke the kiss sensually… his eyes going hooded as he looked down at her. “Thank you.” He breathed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Semi-non-con... things get a little messed up. Smut? I don't know how to explain it. It's just how it ended up... Cullen's not... eh... I don't know.

Quinn was… dazed. She felt him against her, his hand on her hip… she… looked up at him and the hooded way he was looking down at her. His tenor was still shaking, his entire body trembling but… he looked… more focused. “You needed it… just… just enough to bring you ba-ack!” She threw her head back, the last syllable of the word being forced from her as he rolled his hips against her intently, making her feel just how hard he was… which was to say… she was surprised it wasn’t hurting him! She… knew how big he was… proportionate for his body though slightly thicker than what you’d expect… and he was a large man… tall… built… but… feeling him right _there_? Holy… shit…

Cullen bit at his lower lip slow… watching her as she gasped from the feeling of him. “I want more.” He heard the way his tenor dipped. He knew… he could get it from her another way. His mind was so fucking far from clear it wasn’t even funny… he bent down and took her lips again, sliding his tongue into her and groaning low as he held her hip just so, feeling how he made her body move each time he ground down against her. Somewhere in his mind, he knew he should be embarrassed… humiliated and ashamed at how he was rutting against her right there on the damn floor… like he was some horny teenager… but damned if he could remember _why_ he should feel that way. All he knew… was that she had something he wanted… something he _needed_. And he wanted to fuck her… so bad it hurt. In his not-quite-right state of mind, he openly admitted to himself… that he’d wanted to since the night before… it’d been there, roaming around his mind. He felt her body beneath him… felt her sliding against him as he moved surprisingly steady. He ran his hand around the front of her hip, slipped it between them though he still moved… knowing damn well he was distracting her… any other time, he would never stoop to such tactics. But he was desperate… he needed _more_. He pulled his sweats and boxers down slow… easing them below his sack… groaning with her when she moaned for the new feeling of him, how he felt harder to her. Her eyes were closed… her hands on his shoulders, holding him tight… he reached behind him… pulled at her hands… worked them until he had his hand wrapped around both of her wrists… and set them above her head, pulling her body into a lean line… she didn’t even open her eyes. His movements stayed fluid… her breath was sawing in and out of her as he panted… he still kissed her, unwilling to let go of that morsel of relief. He felt how much pre-cum he’d wept… he knew he should… probably worry about… a condom or… something but… that would defeat the purpose of what he was trying to do. He… slowly.. slid his finger beneath the strap of her underwear… still, he kept the rhythm, he tightened his hold on her wrists… on a downward roll, pulled her underwear to the side, used his thumb to guide himself… set the head of his cock to her opening, felt her tense and jerk, her eyes fly open… he tightened his hold on her wrists, put his weight to her there and to his hand that was now on her hip… and slid himself into her wet heat even as she cried out, eyes wide with alarm. “God yes…” He felt ripples of pleasure and relief roll over him. _Ryan?!_ “Cullen.” He breathed against her lips, still trying to kiss her again… he felt her push against him, thrusting her chest against his.

Quinn’s whole body quivered around the feeling of him inside her… but she hadn’t… she wasn’t… she hadn’t meant for him to be inside of her!! His name… she looked up at him and the hooded way he was looking down at her, the way he was licking his lips and squirming. He was an addict… she should have expected it, expected the… manipulation? She wasn’t sure that’s what it was but… still… “Cullen.” She repeated the name quietly, he nodded and covered her lips firmly, forcing his tongue into her mouth before he withdrew and thrust into her firmly… he groaned so damn loud… she knew he was getting lyrium from being inside of her, even more now… but it’d never be as much as he would get from even the smallest draft the church could give. But it was pure lyrium. Not synthetic like the stuff he no doubt took. She didn’t want to… feel… but damn he felt good. She had gotten so wet for him… and damn did he know how to move. His entire body seemed to work with each thrust, it was fluid and smooth though he shook at the same time… it was… she moaned for him.

Cullen was in heaven… for the first time in three years… he felt real lyrium seeping into him. It was like… a breath, a gentle breeze. Nothing close to what he’d had before but… damned if it didn’t work on that edge… the edge that had been sharpened to a killing blade that he was going to use to slice his own damn throat soon. Liriodone was doing fuck all nothing for _that_. But this? He had to break the kiss to breathe… “Oh god…” His tenor rumbled out of him as he bowed his head beside hers, feeling her hands twisting in his, wanting to be free. He… couldn’t let her go. He needed this too much, he couldn’t risk her trying to push him off of her. He held her hip firmly as he thrust into her wet heat… she was so damn tight… she _moaned_ for him again, he filled her entirely, felt her body ripple over him. “Fuck… god you feel so good…” He finally had to let her wrists go… and when she wrapped her arms around him, held him closer to her… he drove himself into her as deep as he could, his knees digging into the worn carpet. “Quinn..” He breathed her name softly… his hand cradling the back of her neck as he turned, lips pressed just there beneath her ear… where his kisses turned… tender… he felt the waves of euphoria flowing over him… in him… the light in his eyes steadily glowing as his powers started to reign back in. He hadn’t been inside a body in… fuck… seventeen years. He knew the only reason he hadn’t spilt yet was because his body was starved for the lyrium he was pulling from her… and that the lyrium itself had a dulling effect. Even still, he was… so damn close already… and she… she was getting so tight. _Roll over._ He shook his head. _Roll. Over._ He shook as he did as she said… as soon as he was on his back, his hands were on her hips, keeping her on him… she didn’t sit up… he wanted her against him… and… damn she knew that. She stayed right there against him. But… “Oh… oh… oh go-od…” He jerked as she rolled her hips upon him, feeling her body take him in so deep… he suddenly forgot all about _lyrium_ or anything about it as the heels of his sneakers drug along the carpet. Suddenly… the world vanished and there was only her as his hips twisted beneath her. He held her gently, but firmly, his shoulders digging into the carpet… one hand trailed down to her rear, feeling her muscles move as she did. She was… making so much noise… muffled right there in the crook of his neck. She… started moving faster… rocking on him with purpose. “Slow… slow down…” He managed, his entire body starting to go even more tense. “You’re… you’re going to make me come… fuck, Quinn! You’re… I’m… I’m about…” He kicked his chin up, holding onto her tightly as she cried out his fucking name… he felt her pulsing around him, coating him… “Sto…sto…p…” He was trying to tell.. her… but, his hips snapped upwards as he came suddenly, his groin convulsing, he pulled her up, jerking out of her a fraction of a second too late… he groaned loud, wrapping around her as he finished right there… the head of himself pressed into the part of her rear… his come coating her there. He knew… he’d let some go inside of her but… he couldn’t bring himself to care right now… his breath was sawing in and out of him as he held onto her… his knees bent… his eyes shut tight.


	10. Chapter 10

Quinn was in the bathroom while… Cullen… cleaned up his mess… messes. She did the same in here… a washcloth and a towel. Her center was still trembling, her thighs quivering from what he’d done to her… and that was a short ride. Imagine what he could do if given room to move? She shook her head sharply at herself. This whole thing had been a horrible idea… but.. damned if she could regret it. By the time she went back out to the bedroom, there was no sign that there had ever been a total freak out except for the damaged dresser drawer. He passed her and went into the bathroom without a word… she heard the shower kick on. She sighed heavily and just sat on the couch… she must have drifted off because the next thing she knew… she was waking up to a rough hand on her shoulder. She didn’t come awake screaming but she was ready to fend someone off.

Cullen showered intently… purposefully ignoring… oh who was he kidding. He could still feel her around him and damn… damn he wanted more. Not just the lyrium either. That… that had been desperately _needed_ but the feeling of her body? The way she felt around him? _That_ … that he _wanted_. Even now, he hated to wash her off of him, which was totally stupid. God… he could still go for another round if he let himself. _Deal with it, it was a onetime deal, dude._ He cursed under his breath, knowing he couldn’t touch her again. He just hoped it wouldn’t be awkward as _hell_ now… he knew it’d be awkward… but he just hoped they could at least act like it wasn’t. He got out of the shower, did his hair… got dressed, dabbed some antiseptic on his hand… and was standing by the couch watching her snooze with a slight frown. She really was… beautiful. Damn it. He woke her up and then stepped away quickly… hoping that… if he wasn’t _right there_ , she wouldn’t be as freaked out. She wasn’t… but she was still ready to throw down. “Come on.” He gestured for her to follow. “Bron left a message.” He had checked it before he came in here. “It’s game time.”

Quinn looked up at him… he looked… damn… better than he had… like, ever. At least since she’d known him. He had color in his face… his eyes weren’t quite as dull either. They were.. fucking gold, not brown. Legit _gold_. “Feeling better?” She said quietly as they stepped out into the hall. She saw him fumble his keys as he tucked them into his coat pocket… and saw the flare of red that shot up the sides of his neck. _Okay, that was fucking adorable._

Cullen cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah.” He took a few steps towards the elevator before he paused and looked back at her for a moment and pointed at himself. “Ryan.” He gave her a high browed look.

Quinn gave him a droll stare… pointed at him. “You Ryan, me Quinn.” She finished with pointing at herself and then scratching at her head and giving him a proper chimp face. “No shit.” She said once she was done, rolling her eyes and passing him with a subtle wink. She wasn’t fucking stupid.

Cullen’s expression screamed that he was disinterested. But… on the inside? He found her… damn it… cute as hell. _This is so… so bad._ He agreed with himself and they headed out. Bron had said to meet them at the Guinness warehouse of all places. He found it odd that Quinn walked every-fucking-where! “Don’t your feet hurt?” He finally said as he jogged to catch up with her when they crossed another intersection.

Quinn blinked and looked over her shoulder at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. She glanced down at her boots… she gave a mouth shrug and shook her head. “Nope.” She walked everywhere because she had no fucking money for a cabbie. She rounded the corner and leapt back behind the building she’d just come around, her heart slamming around in her chest. “Shit.”

Cullen’s brow was creased deeply at her reaction… he held her shoulder and pulled her away, he peeked, eyes flew over Bron and the men gathered with him, he vanished back around the building, all told, two seconds was all he’d been visible. He’d seen Bron… three men he hadn’t met but knew of from Quinn… Tony and Darrell were there… but so were two middle eastern men. One of them, he knew to be Al-Raziar. A known terrorist and blood mage. He looked down at Quinn… she was working on take a deep breath though it kept rattling out of her. “Just act normal.” He offered up.

Quinn nodded with a high pitched chuckle. “I am… I just… this is the first time I’ll be meeting one of _those_ guys.” She closed her eyes and took a few rapid breaths and shoved off from the building, pulling her hair back and tying it with itself. She muttered under her breath. “That guy gives me the creeps.” She felt Cullen fall into step beside her, she could see him out of her peripheral, he had his hands in his coat pocket, that beanie he chose to wore actually made him look… kind of dangerous… oh there was no kind of about it. With the scar and that beard? The hard look in his eyes and the way he just looked… healthier? He walked with his spine straight, he wasn’t slouching or taking careful steps as he had been before… his gate was strong, his shoulders rolled with each step. He looked down right lethal.

Cullen let a sinister smirk pull at his lips in response to her mutter… knowing it only added to his _part_. While she noticed the difference in him, he had as well. He’d be stupid not to… he felt lighter than he had in years… his skeleton wasn’t screaming at him with each step… he could stand to his full height, which was an impressive six three. He tended to look down at damn near everyone he came into contact with… unless he was slouching, which he tended to do when he was in pain… which was damn near all the time.

But not right now. Right now he felt ten years younger… even the six month old gunshot wound on his back didn’t hurt. Right now, he had complete control over his powers, over his body, his muscles were all obeying him explicitly. His skull wasn’t trying to split itself in half… his eyes weren’t squinting from hypersensitivity… nothing. He was straight, solid… steady. The way he walked though, that gate… the slight swagger he had… that… was out of his control. He didn’t do it consciously… it was the walk of a man who had just gotten some… who’d recently spent some time buried in a warm body, hearing his partner scream for him. Muscles that would have been tense anyway, regardless of how much lyrium he had or didn’t have in his system, were eased and relaxed… even his mind was clear. It didn’t feel like his consciousness rattled each time he took a step. It wasn’t like he fell of a wagon or something, it wasn’t like that… coming off of lyrium. It wasn’t a drug per say… it was different.

Especially for him… where his withdrawals were intrinsically tied to his PTSD. Since… he had been withdrawing during his… ordeal. Whenever one or the other spurred him… well, it was always a twofer. But right now… both were far from his psyche. He could sense the lyrium inside Al-Raziar… and he could smell fresh blood in the air. He forced himself not to react beyond a casual glance, just as he gave everyone else they walked up to.

He dipped his chin to Bron. _About damn time you two showed up, what the hell were you crazy kids up to?_ Bron shifted his attention to Quinn, reached out, snatched her arm and pulled her to him, throwing his arm around her neck and actually nuzzling her neck. _Hmm… you didn’t give him a free ride, did you Quinny?_

Quinn scoffed and listed away from Bron. “No but in the interest of clarification.” She shot him a look. “Which is it… am I supposed to be your slut or not?” She yelped when he snatched her hair, she was ready to shave it all off if they kept that up!

Bron clucked his tongue at her. “Such a nasty mouth for such a pretty girl. Come on, Quinny.” He ran his finger down her jaw. “You know I’d never hurt you… unless you made me.” His brows were held high as he blinked at her rapidly for a moment, licking at his lower lip. He gave a droll look to Al-Raziar. “See, Mate, this is why I can’t use her down on the docks… she’ll chase away all the Jacks.”

Al-Raziar let his eyes flow over this prime Irish female greedily… he was a glutton for the pale skinned beauty of this land. And red hair?  “Pity.” He said it low, his dark brown eyes flicking back up to this… _Quinny’s_. He stepped up, a hand gesturing for Bron to _shoo_ away from her for a moment… naturally, the man listened… he may grouse all day long, but he ultimately knew his place. “Madam.” He took her hand, feeling the sweat on her palm… she was nervous… he didn’t blame her. She more than likely knew who he was, what he did… and why he was here. He lifted her knuckles up to his lips as he stepped closer to her, his eyes never leaving hers as he pressed his lips to her skin and took in a deep breath intently. She smelled of soap, pure and clean… nothing more, nothing less. No fancy perfumes or lotions on her skin… simply… clean. And.. she wasn’t a whore. Each time he’d come to Dublin, which had been quite a few, Bron had tried to send whores to him. He had no use for those types of women. But a woman like this one? He saw the defiance in her eyes… oh… she’d be fun to break. “Bron… why have you been keeping such a precious gem to yourself all this time.” His thick accent rolled out of him, his breath skirting over her skin before he lowered her hand, reluctantly let it go and then shot Bron a truly angry look… because… frankly… this… woman… was a far better welcome gift than any woman he’d been forced to endure from Bron.

Bron scoffed and shook his head. “Quinny?” Disbelief stained his word… sure, she had a decent body and all… she wasn’t a smacky and she didn’t suck dick for money… but.. it was _Quinny._ “She’s one of our recruiters. Nothing better to hook the kids than a nice piece of bait. If I knew you were into slummin’, I would have made sure you knew about her.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Again, remember the disclaimer. :/

Quinn couldn’t help but list away from Al-Raziar as he drew near, couldn’t help the flare of rebellion in her eyes as he kissed her hand and fucking smelled her? What was with that lately?! She kicked her head back on her neck, her brows shifting in a way that said she thought he was insane. At the same time… she felt her body _screaming_ at her to get the fuck away from him right quick and in a hurry, she didn’t like the hunger she saw in those eyes, nor the way they went dark when he complimented her. Hell… she’d take Cullen in all his withdrawing addict crazy fury right now if she could just have her hand back… she let out a quiet… but relieved breath when she finally regained her own freaking hand, and immediately stuffed both of them into her pockets. Al-Raziar stepped away from her and set his hand on Bron’s shoulder, guiding him away from their merry group of fuck-ups… and fell into hushed tones, gesturing as he spoke, looking at him intently… that… she didn’t like that either. She prayed to God, his bride, everything… that they were discussing what their next move was.

Cullen drifted off to stand near Tony and Darrell, sharing a cigarette with them while he listened to them with one ear but was keenly aware of what was going on with the _main_ group. He chuckled low at a joke that Darrell had just hissed the punch line out too… grateful for the impeccable timing since that was the moment the blood mage started pawing at Quinn. What the fuck was with them, seriously… hadn’t they seen a female before? Look, he could point out five right now not more than thirty feet from them. Couldn’t they get their own? He blinked rapidly at that last thought. _Um… get their own? As if she was already someone’s?_ He took a mock drag off the non-filter and shook his head at himself. _Just because you had her beneath you doesn’t make you two a fucking couple._ He chastised himself before he shut all that bullshit down. He was on the clock.

Bron admittedly didn’t like to pass Quinn around… he remembered when they were younger… back before shit went sideways. She didn’t understand why he’d turned into the hard-ass that he was now… but she would. He’d make her understand. That’s why he cut her the way he did… it’s the only thing that had kept her the fuck alive. This was the way they were going to make it, all of them. Without these sands, they were screwed. They’d been drowning, petty theft and vandalism did nothing to feed you, clothe you… and that was all well and good when you were teenagers and early twenties… but it sucked, just a little bit, when you were staring down the big four oh and had fuck all nothing to your name. If a few people had to bleed so he didn’t have to worry about dying in a gutter somewhere starving to death? Well, sucks to be them. He wasn’t going down like that. Fuck to the no. And Quinn would learn… she’d get it. She was a smart girl, always had been. She had just gotten spooked is all… but he straightened her out. Hell, he still felt guilty about last night. He… but he had a reputation, damn it! He couldn’t look like he was just going easy on her! She’d been pissing him off a lot lately, mouthing off… she needed to be made an example of. To show all these guys that at a moment’s notice, your _position_ could change. Like that. Right now though? Now… now _he_ felt like she no doubt did last night. Al-Raziar wanted her. Oh… oh he knew damn well that if Al ever saw her, he’d want a piece of her. Which was why he’d never fucking introduced them. Today… was… unavoidable. The head man, Jakar had specifically said that every recruiter and all the newest people needed to be in attendance, Al-Raziar wanted to see and meet _every one of them_. And just like he predicted… one look and Al-Raziar wanted her. He’d just spent the last five fucking minutes trying to _gently_ hint that… she was off limits. The middle eastern man didn’t like being told no… thus… here he was… walking back over to her, schooling his expression though he felt trepidation filling him up. He’d seen the women come back from Al’s place before… _god damn it._ He heard Al-Raziar moving amongst the group and meeting the people that had showed up… those that hadn’t? Well… they’d be in line for the tests next week. And not the ones taking them. He hid his tension well as he wrapped his arm around Quinn’s slender neck and pulled her into him, took a few steps towards the tall brick wall that surrounded the brewery. “So, here’s the deal. Al? He really likes ya for whatever fucked up reason.” His thick Irish accent thumped the vowels and kicked the consonants as he spoke. “Once we’re done here, you’re gonna go with him and show him a good time, hmm?” He gave her another high browed look, taking hold of her chin gentler than he usually would have.

Quinn stared at Bron for more than a moment while she waited for the sound of her blood rushing in her ears to ease up so she could actually speak. “I’m not a fucking party favor, _Bronson_.” She hissed his full name, leaning in as her pupils shinned in her anger. She wasn’t just angry… she was pissed off. She… just… couldn’t do this shit! She could handle a lot of things… but not this! She gritted her teeth as she felt his fingers dig into her cheeks.

Bron jerked her closer, rage snapping in his blue eyes. “You’re whatever _I_ _say_ you are, _Quinn_.” He felt the tremble in his jaw, the muscles twitching as he tried to keep his voice down, not draw too much fucking attention to them. “Don’t make me bruise that pretty little face of yours before your _date_.” He threw her away from him just enough to make her stumble… and hated the darkness he felt wrapping around his fucking soul a little more every single time he did shit like this. But he was determined _not_ to end up like his worst fucking nightmare. If she had to… deal with Al’s particularly sick brand of pleasure… then so be it. She’d heal. Eventually.

Cullen forced himself not to look at Quinn… or Bron… or Al-Raziar for that matter. He kept to his station, his… position. Until, Al-Raziar got to him of course. He held the man’s hand, held his eye… gave him a firm shake, and fell on all his training to keep his tone of voice level. “Looking forward to it.” He said in a way that wasn’t bored but not too eager either.

Al-Raziar’s brows perked as he ran his index finger over this alpha male’s wrist, just there on the inside, over the veins. “We’ll treat you a hell of a lot better than the church ever did.” He could sense the lyrium in his veins… but he was no mage. Not like _Quinny_. But she wasn’t that powerful… he could tell easily.

Cullen nodded. “No offense, but that won’t be hard.” He smirked… Al-Raziar gave him a smooth chuckle… damn the guy was charismatic. Then again, that was how he got where he was, no doubt.

Al-Raziar gave a firm nod and clapped the Templar on the shoulder before moving on… thus far, Bron had gotten together quite a few pawns that would serve their purpose well. The Templar would be a shame to waste but he’d get over it. He gestured to his man, Jordan brought over the case… Al-Raziar unsnapped it, opened it up… and passed out the black velvet lined cases to each of them. “A gift. From Jakar for each of you, he wanted to be here but alas, pressing matters kept him from attending.” Jordan closed the briefcase and stepped away once he was done. “We want you all to know that this isn’t something we’re just throwing together for a few days. We want to build a family here… and like any family, loyalty… is the most important thing. With that loyalty… comes certain advantages.” He gestured to the bags. “I want each of you to enjoy the next few days. Then… then we’ll all start to have some real fun.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Blood. Lots of blood. :(

Cullen held the heavy case… reacted the way he was supposed to, work a smirk of a grin and nodded to the man. _Loyalty, my ass._ Bron waved them all off and Cullen started drifting away, listening to Tony and Darrell drone on about something or other. They were still milling around… Cullen covertly watched as Bron held Quinn’s upper arm and walked her over to Al-Raziar’s Royce… and damn near pushed her down into the car… Al-Raziar got in on the other side. The doors shut… and the black vehicle eased away from the curb. Cullen couldn’t help but look straight at Bron… his brow held low. For a moment there, Cullen saw actual… concern on his face? But that was… then his eyes flicked up to him, locked… and Cullen gestured with a nod for him to come on over. He spent the afternoon in a derelict pub with the three of them… and took a cab back to his extended stay. Obviously, he didn’t open his case… but Tony and Darrell opened theirs. Inside they had found a cell phone, a stack of euro, and some VIP passes to the boxing match that was happening downtown tomorrow night. There was also a fucking Rolex watch in there. Cullen set his case on the dresser when he got back… shaking his head at it. He bet anything that the cell phone was GPS laced, tracked… and pinging right now. Not like it mattered, he was so deep under cover, he didn’t even check in with anyone until it was done.

He showered, forced himself to eat a bowl of instant noodles… and climbed into bed. An hour later, he got tired of tossing and turning and climbed back out of bed. He was still marveling that he wasn’t in freaking pain… he’d been in pain so long… it was like floating now that he didn’t just hurt all over. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, tugging at the waistband of his flannel pajama pants he made way over to the couch and fell down onto it, something he couldn’t have done yesterday. For the seemingly millionth time tonight, his mind settled on Quinn. His brow creased in worry… he hoped she was okay. He knew his current pain-less condition was thanks to her. And… he adjusted himself with a grimace… what he’d done to her. Damn… he shook his head sharply to stop his mind from even remotely going there, leaned forward and snatched the remote off the coffee table and clicked it on. He channel surfed for about five minutes, sipping at his water before he settled on some random sitcom. He had no idea what shows were _in_ right now, he didn’t watch television as a general rule. But the noise, the light… all of it was oddly comforting.

Cullen jerked awake, sitting up suddenly and blinking rapidly. The TV glowed blue… apparently having gone into some form of hibernation. He must have… he scrubbed at his face roughly, fished the remote out from between his legs and clicked it off. He must have fallen asleep… he yawned, the room now in near darkness, the only light to be had from the light over the skinny stove… and the lamp in the bedroom. He had no idea what had woken him… he startled and sent a fierce glower at the door… and the soft knock that had sounded. He glanced at the red numbers from the standard hotel clock sitting on the desk. It read three forty five AM. He padded over to the door cautiously and peered through the peep hole… and immediately threw open the locks, pulling the door open. “Quinn, what are you…” His voice died in his throat as he actually saw her. She was standing there… shaking… all over. She was wearing her coat but… a dress? And… heels… stockings but… peeking out of her collar was a noticeable cut… he saw blood trickling out of the sleeves of her coat… down fingers that shook, the hand jerking… one of her hands held her pocketbook so tight he could see the white of her knuckles. She had a cut on her neck… another on her cheek… her lip was split… “Jesus.” He immediately reached for her and pulled her inside, shutting the door and slapping the safety bar over.

Quinn was… she couldn’t… “I… didn’t know where… else…” Her voice shook out of her as she took hesitant steps, all of her muscles were still fighting… damn, everything. “I couldn’t… go to… Brons…” She swallowed roughly, tasting the iron of the blood that had gathered in her mouth. She grimaced as she felt Cullen’s hand on on her shoulder... she heard him ask her what happened, she just shook her head, lifting a hand to press the meat of her palm into her brow line, her pocket book slipping from her hold and falling to the floor. “I don’t… I don’t want to talk about it. I just… I need… to rest.”

Cullen directed her into the bedroom, he was aiming her for the bathroom. She had her hair up… but… quite a bit of it had fallen from whatever up-do it had been in… he swallowed against the tension in his throat. He let his hand fall to her side on her back, started wrapping it around her waist to pull her against him… she cried out and lurched away from him, her hands on the wall in the next moment, smearing blood as she nearly fell. He caught her just in time… “Son of a bitch..” He cursed under his breath. He knew it wasn’t graceful but… he drug her into the bathroom… and eased her down onto the closed toilet. He pulled her heels off and tossed them out into the bedroom as she breathed heavily above him. His eyes flicked up her legs… and the cuts… they were all superficial but… were made with something that was obviously sharp. It suddenly all clicked in place. “That sick bastard.” He’d bled her. “That fucking… god damned… _malificar_.” He growled the last, his eyes immediately blooming over in blue light. He reached up her legs slow, pushing her long skirt aside, the slit up the thigh… he knew she didn’t pick it. She’d never wear something like this. He didn’t know _how_ he knew… he just… he knew. He caught the edge of her thigh highs and pulled them down slow, feeling her hand on his shoulder in the next moment.. felt her hang on tight… he looked up at her face, his brow marred as he watched her cover her mouth to silence herself. He peeled the useless nylon off of her… and did his best not to cuss again. He failed. “What else did he do?” He almost didn’t recognize his voice for how dark it sounded.

Quinn shook her head at him. She didn’t want to say… she didn’t want to speak. She didn’t want to think about any of it… she just wanted… to forget about it. “Nothing.” She breathed, bracing her weight on the toilet seat lid before he started working her coat off.

Cullen’s lips curled when she lied to him. “Don’t… lie to me… Quinn.” He ground out… pulling the fake leather from her, he felt like napalm went to live in his veins. It was like she went through a fucking wood chipper for how many cuts there were on her arms… these… went deeper and weren’t as straight. _Because she was fighting him when he did these._ He clinched his jaw tight, grinding his molars as he crowded her, rising up onto his knees to make himself taller, reaching for the zipper on the back.

Quinn closed her eyes and let her head fall… she didn’t… couldn’t. “I can’t.” She whispered low when he got close like that… she felt him go still… and then continue. The dress went loose around her and she wanted to curl into a tight ball, hide from the entire world as she shifted so he could pull it off entirely.

Cullen managed to get it off her feet before he stood up, tore away from her was more like… balled it up and threw it as hard as he could across the bedroom as he left the bathroom. He needed a moment. He paced, his fists clinching and releasing as his breath sawed from him. He rushed back into the bathroom to see her trying to stand on her own and reach the clasp of her bra. He almost slapped her hands away, he was… so damned mad. She had bruises all… over her… and fucking _bite marks_ on her. “I’m going to fucking kill him.” He growled as he unhooked the closure and turned away from her, bending over the claw foot tub and cranking the water on. He turned around and reached into the cabinet and pulled out the odd bottle… uncorked it and upturned the almost glowing red liquid into the water. Elixirs were coveted and tightly controlled… or you got them off the black market. This one was regenerative. A healing elixir. He had a few of them… just in case. He had no problem using one now. He focused on the water, watching it swirl and mix with the thick viscous liquid… watched the slight shimmer coat the surface of the water. “Did he rape you?” He asked suddenly, his hands on his hips as he fumed.

Quinn was easing the underwear down when he spoke… she paused and felt her chin tremble. “No.” She answered quietly… and honestly. _Did you two.._ she heard the dread in his voice. “No.” She answered again… honestly. What that man had done… was… she still felt violated in more ways than one though. She braced her weight on the bathroom counter as she stepped out of the silk underwear… they made her skin crawl. All of the clothes… except her jacket… were what _he_ had dressed her in. She turned around, shaking from… everything. “I’m sorry.” She said it low… wanting to just… fucking disappear.


	13. Chapter 13

Cullen blinked away the sting in his eyes, her answers… damn… he thanked God for that at least. She said the last when he was turning the water off… he blinked and stood up, looking over his shoulder at her with confusion. She had her arms wrapped around herself and looked… damn… in this florescent light? All those fucking cuts, bruises, bites… her mascara having run from her tears… she looked so… frail. Vulnerable. He shook his head and stepped over to her, his hands setting to the only places he could see that weren’t hurt… she jerked, twitched, flinched when he touched her. “Quinn… don’t ever apologize for this.” He held her hazel eyes when she looked up at him. He knew his own expression was… troubled. He pulled her gently and held a hand out for her to hold as she stepped into the tub. He frowned as she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, making herself so small… sitting there in the center of the tub. The water lapping around her shoulders. He pulled away and grabbed one of the hand towels and wet it down… and started cleaning up the blood before it could set. He gathered her ruined clothes and stuffed them and the now ruined towel into a trash bag. When he set it in the kitchen he had to take a moment… he gripped his fist in front of him, all of his muscles straining as he barely resisted the urge to put it through the fucking wall. He wanted to hurt something… he wanted to… break… something! Hit something! While he was screaming in his mind… he heard the slightest hiccup… his head snapped up and he looked down the length of the apartment, through the open bathroom door… and saw her shoulders rocking, her head bowed, her face buried against her knees. He shook his head sharply and took no time walking back in there. He… shit… he sucked at this sort of thing, he had zero experience in it. He just… damn… he wanted her in his arms. “Quinn.” He said her name low… she sniffled loudly, he heard her try to silence a sob… and fail. He shook his head again and stepped over the edge of the tub, his flannel pants immediately sticking to his leg.

Quinn jerked violently as the water level rose, she looked up at him… and over her shoulder… he… he still had his pants on! Then… he was just… _there_. His legs wrapped around her… and his arms… she felt his chest against her back. It somehow made it _worse_. She couldn’t hold back anymore… she turned to the side, her cheek settling on his shoulder, her face away from him as she damn near wrapped around his thick arm and cried like a damn baby. He just held her tighter… the elixir he had put in the water had already stitched all her cuts closed… they were just sore at this point… now… now the pain was all on the inside. She felt her hair come loose… and fall down around her, felt his hand as he smoothed it back from her face… over and over again.

Cullen’s frown only grew deeper at the way she seemed to just… crumble. He smoothed her hair down and started shushing her softly. “I got you.” He said low, bending and setting his lips to her crown, closing his eyes tightly and just… held her. He remembered… when his world was falling apart… the one thing he’d wanted… was to just feel like someone was holding him together. To just feel… safe. So he gave that to her now. When she finally seemed to quiet… he reached and grabbed his shampoo off the wire shelf… and squeezed some into his palm… and started washing her hair. He had… no clue what he was doing honestly… but he figured it couldn’t be that different than his own hair. He was so wrong… but he managed. When it came time to rinse… he held her crown gently as she finally stretched out some… and let him dip her hair down into the water. The cut on her cheek and the side of her neck were still there… he cradled her in his arm… and used his hand to push the water up over her neck repeatedly, nice and slow… until the cut was stitched close. The entire time, her eyes were closed… but he felt her hands on his forearm, holding onto him tight. He started running his thumb over the cut on her cheek, dipping it down into the water as many times as it took… she winced every time. He felt… guilt… gnawing at him. Which was ridiculous really… or was it? He may not wear the shield anymore, but… his job hadn’t changed. His job was still to protect people. He ran his thumb down to her lip… and did the same to the cut there. He felt his anger ebbing and rising, like the tide… over and over again, the light in his eyes doing the same. He couldn’t… he wasn’t sure what was going on inside of him if he were to be honest. “I’d never hurt you like this.” He found himself saying, he had no idea where those words had come from… or why he said them.

Quinn rolled her lower lip in, pulling it away from his thumb and rolling over in his arms, hooking her hand over his neck and pulling herself further upon him, her knees drawing up again, her feet tucking under his thigh. She was quiet… for… hell, she didn’t even know. When she did speak, her voice broke. “I know you wouldn’t.” And that was the rub, wasn’t it? She’d been with him in his full on… craving hit him hard… addict state and he hadn’t hurt her, not really. That was probably why she had come here tonight… oh there was no probably about it. She wanted to feel safe… and right now… this was the safest place she knew. And for reasons she didn’t even want to know… Cullen was safe. It was stupid and… just so completely damning… but it was true.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -Beats the Smut Drum-  
> NC17 and whatnot.

Cullen pulled her against him even more, now that she was healed and healing. He held her until the water started to cool… and she let him. He eventually got out… shucked his wet clothes and toweled off… as she did the same. He pulled a fresh pair of boxers out of the cabinet and worked them on, even though his legs were still damp. He was… dog tired. He pulled her in when she wrapped the towel around her… he bent low and without thought, just… picked her up. She didn’t make a sound… and that made it all the more heart wrenching. He hit the light with his elbow on the way out and carried her across the bedroom… set her down in the bed where she rolled out of his hold and the towel both. He tossed the towel uselessly aside and clicked the lamp off… and climbed in behind her, pulling the blankets up over both of them. It took no time before he was wrapped around her again. His muscles all tensed randomly as he pulled her against him, closing his eyes as he breathed her in. He’d been… actually too preoccupied to be proud of how his body had behaved itself this entire time… then again, lyrium did that… granted for him it was only to some extent, considering he had very little left in him at this point. The bath was… well… even after a dry spell like his, his body couldn’t. Now though? Feeling all of her skin like this… the way she fit against him? Her vulnerability? His groin tightened on him even as he gritted his teeth and did his best to ignore it. He didn’t move either… he was just… still. Well, about ninety eight percent of him was still… that two percent between his legs was twitching eagerly, like a fucking toddler jumping up and down demanding attention. It didn’t help matters _at all_ that Quinn had absolutely no clothes on. He had his eyes closed and was actually starting to drift when he felt her hand on his thigh… his brows lifted as he tried to open his eyes back up. “ _Hmm_?”

Quinn felt all that masculine power just wrapped around her, coiled behind her like a sentinel, guarding her against the night. At least… that’s what it felt like. She also felt the proposal his body was making… his arm thrown over her middle… his legs curled behind her own. But she felt how heavy that arm had gotten… how his breathing was starting to level out… he was drifting. She knew it was selfish… but she didn’t want him to sleep yet. She wanted him to be with her just a little while longer. She wanted to feel… she reached behind her leg and set her hand to his thigh, feeling the hair there tickle her palm. His groggy _hmm_ had warmth spread in her chest. He’d been… so incredibly kind. So… damn tender and gentle. She reached further up his body, tucked her fingers into his waistband and started pulling his boxers down. She didn’t say anything.

Cullen woke up the rest of the way right quick and in a hurry… feeling his boxers starting to slide down his rear tended to do that. He blinked a few times… before he decided to just… freaking go with it at this point. He lifted his hip off the bed and worked the fabric down entirely, letting them get lost to the foot of the bed. He rolled his lips and bit at them when he felt all of her against all of him. He lifted his hand to brush her still damp hair out of the way… lifted his head and set his lips to her neck. He didn’t kiss her feverishly or hastily… his kisses were lazy, slow and sensual. The last thing she needed was for him to freaking pounce on her. Hell, he wasn’t even sure she wanted him… he felt her hand run up the back up his thigh and take hold of his rear… pulling him against her as she pressed herself into his groin. Okay.. so… she _did_ want him. No doubt to chase away the night… he wanted to soothe her in that moment. He couldn’t speak her pain away, her sorrow… whatever that bastard had done to her. But he could use his body to make her feel good. He could soothe her battered soul the way she was slowly doing the same for him. She rolled in his arms slow, he kissed his way to her lips… feeling her hands on him, her fingers testing his muscles, pressing against him, massaging as she went. He licked at the seam of her lips… and tasted her with a sharp intake of air, his lungs straining as the rest of his body did the same. He was lost to her so damn fast. He climbed atop her without hesitation, his length already aching for her… wanting to fill her.. wanting to show her what she was doing to him, after no time at all. He felt her hands moving… his entire body jerked when he felt her take hold of him… he wasn’t even sure how… what… his hips surged forward. She had guided him, set him… and instinct took over. He slid himself into her so fluidly… she was already wet for him. He gathered her in his arms and fell into a rhythm that was the same as his kiss… slow… steady… almost lazy. He wasn’t just fucking her… he was… making love to her. And he felt his heart crack at the feeling of her beneath him… her delicate hands breaking him far more than any torture ever could.

Quinn didn’t want to feel empty inside… she wanted to feel him. Wanted to hear him… he was the only guy she’d ever known to make as much noise as he did… she could tell he really enjoyed it. When he seated himself entirely, a groan caught in his throat. But he set a rhythm that damn near made her cry it was so sweet. If she didn’t know better… she’d say he was making love to her. When he broke the kiss sensually, a nod that parted their lips… he kissed a trail back down her jaw… to her ear. Every time he thrust into her, she moaned softly for him… felt his body answer her owns demand for relief. She was already so damn close. “Cullen…” She breathed his name, felt his fingers ghost down the side of her face, he was so… damn… _sweet_.

Cullen nibbled on the earlobe just slightly, feeling her body grip him tighter. “That’s it…” He breathed as he slid himself into her deeper… rolling fully as he ground down against her at the same time, hitting all the right spots for her. “Let it go, baby…” _So close._ Her hushed words were gifted back… he kissed the skin just below her ear, felt her hands grip his hips tighter, urging him to increase his tempo. He did, but only the slightest bit… it was enough. The next moment, her body snapped around him, her moan went from almost meek to near echoing in the room. His hips rocked against her, sweat bloomed out over him as he felt her body pulsing around him… _he_ was close. He kept the same rhythm, the same pace… thrust into her as deep as he could, giving the last inch or two sharply. He felt her nails dig into his back in her passion… he buried his face in the hollow of her neck, his tenor leaving him each time he filled her. He had wanted to keep it slow… steady… but… he seemed to have no choice. His lower back started rolling faster, withdrawing and thrusting into her more purposefully, more eagerly.. more desperately. He slid a knee upwards as he moved, he couldn’t… he shook his head slightly, feeling her hands pulling at him… her voice… she was making so many beautiful sounds for him… her hips rising up to meet him… he ran a hand up the mattress beneath the pillow, fingers finding the edge where he gripped it tight, his chest heaving as his breath sawed from him. “Oh god…” His voice cracked, broke from the sheer intensity of everything. Still, he wouldn’t _pound_ into her, he wouldn’t take her that way tonight… he kept the same kind of thrust to his pace. He felt himself heading for his peak like a freight train, his lips set to her neck desperately as he held her hip with his other hand, pulling at her… he didn’t _want_ to pull out of her. He buried himself as deep as he could… _that_ was where he wanted to come. He felt the start of her womb against the head of himself. “God, right there…” He ground out against her skin as she moaned impossibly loud for him. He felt everything drawing up, getting heavy but tight… he was so damn close… he knew he was toeing the line, teetering so close to the edge the way he was and not yet withdrawing from her… he should be… he should be finishing with his hand… not waiting until the absolute last second to… suddenly, her body tightened around him as another orgasm crashed over her. Her body pulsed and writhed around him and beneath him as she doused him again… his hips stuttered, he started to withdraw. “I’m… oh God.. Quinn… I’m… about to…” His words were lost to a deep groan as his seed boiled over, his hips snapped forward and he buried himself, spilling into her entirely, he wrapped his arms around her, feeling her body pull everything from him while he continued to roll against her and groan far too loudly in his opinion. But damn… that felt… so damn good.

Quinn actually _felt_ him come… felt his length pulse as he spilled… she’d felt him try to pull out… but… damn. She couldn’t even be upset or angry at him over it… not when she started all of this. Not when he felt like _that_ when he came. She held him against her, relished in the way he held _her_. He rolled them to the side slightly as he ran his hand down her back, pressing her hips against him as he kept himself locked inside her… he was all instinct, all male… ensuring he was exactly where he needed to be… that he came as deep inside her as he could. And hearing him? The hottest damn thing she’d ever heard. He made her feel… whole, somehow. He kissed a desperate trail to her lips, covered them and gave her another one of those blinding kisses… and this had nothing to do with lyrium. Damn this man could kiss. He could make her forget… everything… when he kissed her like this. Feeling his hard thick length inside her, still kicking as he gave every last bit of himself… feeling his strong arms around her… _it’s not fair._ She thought suddenly… because it wasn’t. Bron was going to kill her when he found out she flipped on him… and Cullen? Bron would kill her if he knew she was here now… letting him have sex with her. Either way… she was dead. Why couldn’t she be someone else? Someone… better. Someone who deserved this kind man who was holding her as if she actually meant something?

Cullen was still working on drifting back down into his own skin when he realized what he had just done. He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head at himself… grateful the darkness hid his disapproving frown. There wasn’t anything to be done for it now… except… hope nothing came of it. “I’m sorry.” He breathed against her lips… he… _damn it_. He shouldn’t have done that. He felt her fingers go through his damp hair… felt her arms wrap back around him. _I know you didn’t mean to._ He frowned even more. Did he? In the moment, he wasn’t so sure. He… no, he hadn’t meant to. Right? He took a ragged breath, feeling it shake out of him… and feeling the lyrium seep in. He withdrew from her slow… and settled beside her, tucking her in beside him once more… and drifted off to the feeling of her tracing small circles on his forearm.

Quinn felt him fall asleep seemingly all at once. Her eyes flicked up to the alarm clock beside his bed… it was almost five thirty in the morning. She started to get up but felt his arms tighten around her… she looked over her shoulder at him, the feint outline of his features catching the dim light that was creeping in through the cracks in his curtains. She shouldn’t be here… not with him. He was… so far out of her league it wasn’t even funny. She eased his arms off of her and went into the bathroom. By the time she finished, washed her face… stared at reflection in the mirror for a few agonizingly long moments… and came back… she had half a mind to just leave. But she knew… that would be shitty to the extreme and unfair to him. She fished around in his dresser and found a tee shirt… it damn near swallowed her but she figured it was better than nothing. She climbed back in bed… and tried to… hell, she had no idea. She tried to put some distance between them? _What the fuck is the point in that?_ She didn’t know. She was… tired and… confused. Tired of feeling… lost. She heard his snore begin behind her, the subtle sound through his nose that was oddly… comforting. It was a rhythm that seemed to lull her to sleep… before she knew it… she was out.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen's far from perfect, his past haunts him.

Cullen’s dreams were a mix of pleasure and pain… one moment his mind would be bombarded with horrors from his past, tortured images of Surana’s face twisting with the daemon as it cackled and screeched… the next? Quinn’s beautiful eyes and gentle body beneath him as he filled her, her voice in his ear as she moaned for him. Then… a white hot pain across his back from the daemon’s barbed tail, his hands slipping in darkened pools of sticky cold blood… his brothers laying dead all around him… the daemon screaming in frustration when he refused to submit. Another spin of his psyche and Quinn’s auburn hair was spilling through his fingers as she took him in her mouth… beguiling eyes looking up at him but no humiliation, only adoration. In another blink, the visceral prison in Kenloch hold tightened around him, sinking its tendrils into is mind, forcing it to splinter apart… his hands clutching his head as he screamed from the pain… the withdrawals spurring him into every single corner of his being. Then… his fingers brushing against Quinn’s thighs, lifting her skirt as he kissed her neck… her… breathless against him as she held him… as she told him impossible things. As she told him… she loved him. He chuckled against her neck, teasing the skin… his tenor echoing around the dream… _I love you too_. And like all things in his life thus far… it was torn from him… the two halves of his dreaming world collided, the daemon ripped her from his arms, had her in its clutches… as he was pinned back to the floor.. chains upon chains, glowing the color of lyrium, the collar of the church around his neck as he screamed, pain slicing through him… feeling as though his skin was being torn from his body and his bones all being broken at once… his eyes fixed on her.. as the daemon utterly destroyed her. _You think you can ever be happy?!_ It shrieked at him before it threw her lifeless body at his knees… _you will never be happy… ever! You are still mine! Look! Look at what you’ve done!_ The daemon pointed down at her.

Cullen jerked awake, panting, sweat covering him, his weight braced, all his muscles tight and ready to defend himself. He blinked rapidly, feeling the sting of biting pain just there behind his eyes. His breath shook out of him as he looked around near wildly… the bedroom dim… but it was obviously daytime. His eyes flicked to the alarm clock… he needed a tether to reality. It wasn’t even ten yet. He looked to his left… Quinn. She was… so still. Fear filled him, dumped into him like a thousand gallons of ice water. He damn near scrambled the few feet to her, pulled her shoulder and rolled her too him. Her face scrunched up, her groan came out of her at being jostled so unceremoniously. He could hardly breathe… relief flooded him and yet… she needed to leave. “Quinn, get up.” He climbed over her and threw the covers back, swallowing against the pain in his throat. He shook her shoulder again when she didn’t immediately respond. “Quinn!”

Quinn woke up groggily… her brow creased many times over in confusion as she was shaken awake. “Wh… what?” She looked up at… “What is it, Cullen?” She sat up slow as he stepped back. _You have to leave._ He was already walking away from her but… she rubbed at her eyes and looked at the clock. It was… wait… she looked back at him as he was digging around in the dresser. Something… was wrong. And not in the _we have to get out of here!_ Kind of way. She blinked wide a few times and drug herself out of bed and walked over to him slow. She could see the shine off his back… started to notice how he was… she grew cautious. Was he… having another lyrium induced freak out? The night came to her… no… he… well… kind of got his medicine just a few hours ago… so then what… he turned around and thrust a pair of drawstring sweats at her… they would be comically huge on her. She took them and just stared at him for a few heartbeats. “Cullen… what’s going on?” Her voice was small and thick with sleep but she looked at him openly. She could see how his eyes were bouncing around… he folded his arms over his chest as if he were… scared?

Cullen couldn’t look at her directly… not without seeing her pleading eyes as the daemon tore her throat out. He visibly cringed and took a small step back. “You have to leave.” When she didn’t move for a moment, he barked at her. “Now!” He looked at her then… and saw the sting in her eyes. “I can’t do this!” He gestured between them. “I… I just can’t.” He stared for the living room, intent on just waiting for her to get her meager belongings. He froze when he felt her hand on his arm… he looked down at it… and then at her when she came around to stand in front of him. His chest was heaving he was breathing so hard… his heart slamming around in his chest.

Quinn was taken aback by his words… his actions… his _tone_. Everything. She looked up at him with a look that said as much. “What happened?” When he shifted to go around her again, she stepped in his way. “No! Tell me what happened!” She set her hand on his chest, and looked down at it suddenly. She could feel his heart racing… suddenly his hands were on her shoulders, she could feel the tremble in his hold. She looked up into his eyes and… the way he was looking at her damn near broke her heart for the fear she saw there. “Jesus, Cullen… what happened…” She stepped closer to him, instead of away, dropping those sweats, she set both her hands to his cheeks, cradling his face as her own look of concern fell over her features.

Cullen couldn’t… he couldn’t think when she touched him like that. He was a moron. He was stupid, a complete idiot. Why did she mean anything to him!? He’d only known her for what, two, three days?! Hell, he had no idea at this point. He’d known her no time at all… but… the thought of anything happening to her like that? Like last night? Simultaneously sent him into a rage… and tore him apart at the same time. He wanted the good parts of that dream… he wanted them so bad he would do damn near anything for them. That too terrified him. It was the years spent alone… the shattered pieces of himself that she was somehow putting back together by just… fucking _being_ here. It was all of that… everything… all of his loneliness, all of the nights spent screaming in his mind that he was done… all of the days just going through the motions… she had shown him… a brief glimpse of himself that could be… kind. Tender. _Loving_. It made him want things that he had no business wanting. It made him dream of things that… he had no fucking right to dream of. His lips parted as he went to tell her exactly that… but none of that came out. What did… horrified him. “I was Knight Captain at Kenloch Cathedral in Bristol.” He saw recognition flare in her eyes. It had been worldwide news… what had happened there. The slaughter… the subsequent save by the Warden Commander Aeducan. All of it. Except the grisly details that the church went covered up of course. “A malificar… named Uldred… took over… he enslaved many of the mages… and butchered my brothers and sisters.” He didn’t even feel the tear tremble and fall off his lashes. “I was held for two weeks…” He swallowed and gave her a fearful look as his heart skipped more than one beat in his fear. “The daemon who came for me… used everything it could against me… including a mage… a sanctified named Surana.” He closed his eyes and bowed his head with his shame. “I had coveted her… but never took her.” He struggled to speak, his throat muscles spasmed on him. “The daemon knew it… and used her… to torture me.” He shook his head at himself. “The depravity of what I witnessed… haunts me still.” He said it low before he pinned her with a sudden pleading look. “I want you, Quinn… but I can’t keep you.” He felt a great deal of himself scream at the injustice of it… and his heart wilt over that simple fact. “Those enemies may be long dead… but others will come… and I… I _can’t_ … risk… you.” He nearly lost his voice entirely by the end. He reached up and brushed some of her mussed hair from her face. “You deserve so much more than a washed up Templar… who’s damaged beyond repair.”


	16. Chapter 16

Quinn just… listened and watched, looked at him quietly. He was… Knight Captain Cullen Rutherford… of Honnleath. She remembered when all of that happened… it was horrifying. All of it. The hold fell and… damn near everyone died. The Knight Commander, First Enchanter, a handful of mages, most of them children… and the Knight Captain were all that made it out alive. Over two hundred died. What had been considered one of the best holds for mages in the _world_ fell overnight and went dark for nearly a month. By the time anyone realized something was wrong… most everyone was already dead. His confession that he’d coveted a sanctified wasn’t surprising… not really. But all of this explained… quite a lot actually. His anger… his withdrawals… the PTSD. All of it. His confession that he wanted her though… it gave the distinct impression that he wasn’t just talking about sex. The last had her expression slowly falling into confusion. She shook her head at him slowly… no one had ever said anything like that to her. She… she was a street rat, a gutter girl. She… had no home… no family… no future. She… had a tenth grade education and couldn’t get a bank account even if she had money to put in it. She lived in a world of crime… and he… he was… the freaking _Knight Captain_. Now? He was some kind of special operations soldier. He was… so far above her it wasn’t even funny. “No I don’t.” She whispered softly… she held no pity in her voice, for herself or anyone else. It was simple fact, for a variety of reasons. One of them being that… he wasn’t damaged beyond repair. Not… not with the way he touched her. Not with the way he looked at her last night… or rather, early this morning. “Cullen… I…” She wanted to tell him all of this but… the words just wouldn’t come out of her damn mouth! She watched him shake his head at her, his gaze had turned solemn, accepting… resigned.  

Cullen frowned down at her. “No, Quinn.” He stepped back, bent down, and handed her the sweats back, he knew they’d be insanely big on her… but it was the only thing he had that might remotely fit, or at least… that they could make fit. “You have to go.”

“Why?” Quinn questioned as he turned away from her.

Cullen blinked and shot her a look. “Did you not just hear me?”

Quinn shook her head and threw the pants back at him lazily. “I heard you but I didn’t hear a reason why I needed to leave _right now_.” She gave him a guarded look and saw the pain flash in his eyes over it. She didn’t want to hurt him… but… if he was hell bent on hurting her… since she had been dumb enough to… damn it… like him. Let him in. Then.. she needed to start working on those barriers she kept around her again.

Cullin caught the pants and felt his jaw tense as sudden anger flared inside of him… because she had just hurt him. Because she _could_ hurt him. It wasn’t much, it was just a sting. But… it was there. “Don’t push me, Quinn.” He warned, pointing at her with the same hand that held the pants.

Quinn chewed on her lower lip for a moment, folding her arms over her chest as she thought about it. “Why not?” She shot back at him, feeling her own anger starting to kick in. “You _can’t_?” She repeated back to him. “I get it, you went through some fucked up shit. But how the hell is that _my fault_?”

Cullen ground his teeth. “I didn’t say it was.” He said low, knowing she was baiting him.

Quinn shook her head and scoffed. “Yet I’m the one who’s getting punished for it.” She looked up and then back at him suddenly. “Figures.”

Cullen threw the pants aside and faced her, his eyes snapping in sudden anger. “That is _not_ what is going on here and you know it. Don’t try to turn this around and make me feel like shit because I’m trying to protect you. I’m doing a well enough job with that on my own, I don’t need you helping me out there, fuck you very much.”

Quinn narrowed her eyes at him slightly. “Protecting me? How in the _hell_ are you protecting me by kicking me out?” She shook her head at him. “It may have escaped your notice but I don’t need you to protect me like this, I’m not a fucking child… Cullen…” She paused  as she spoke, kind of bobbing her head slightly. “I don’t need you to.. to… fucking take care of me!”

Cullen’s features hardened immediately. “Then why the fuck did you come here last night!?” He gestured in the general direction of the door. “If you didn’t want me to take care of you, why the _fuck_ did you even come here?!”

Quinn’s eyes snapped in anger. “I have no fucking idea.” She aimed for the dresser where her pocketbook was sitting, she picked it up and her jacket, which was still on the floor. Her chest ached… she… this was so stupid. She didn’t know why she was standing there arguing with him… he had told her to leave and she should have just gone then. She shouldn’t have come here at all. This entire thing was… so stupid! She jerked at her jacket, quickly getting frustrated with it as she started walking towards the living room briskly.

Cullen folded his arms over his chest, pinned his hands beneath his biceps to keep himself from reaching for her when she passed him. He heard her go into the living room… his entire body screamed to follow. He forced himself to stay exactly where he was. He heard the safety bar slide over… _don’t go._ He wanted to say… his brows slowly started to ease out of their drawn down state and start to pitch outward. He heard the knob turn over, heard her jerk the door open… and then it started to close in its not-quite silent way. He bit down on his lips sharply to keep his mouth shut… he heard the soft click that the door made when it shut again. The whirling automatic lock slide back over. And the dead silence that she left in her wake. His lips peeled apart as he let a wet breath out… a frown pulled his chin down and his chest burned, his throat squeezed him so tight it hurt to breathe. He closed his eyes tight for how badly they stung. His heart screamed, rebelled right there in his chest, clawed at the cage of his ribs, as if it was desperate to follow her. “Quinn..” He breathed her name… and felt all those pieces that she’d started putting together that was him… shatter and fall down all around him. He turned around sharply and charged over to the bedside table, tore the drawer open and flipped the pill bottle open, spilled out one of the glaring orange pills and swallowed it down… having more than enough saliva at the moment to ease it down without any problems. He charged into the bathroom and threw the shower over, not but hot water screaming out of the shower head. He forced himself to just… do what he did. He ran on auto-pilot.

By the time he was done _grooming_ and dressed… he felt as dead inside as he had when he first met her. No… even worse… now he felt _cold_ and dead. He took the trash out when he left that morning. He didn’t see her for three days… he did jobs for Bron, ran with his crew… drank heavily every night… and when the day came that Jakar and Al-Raziar was going to re-join them… he braced himself to see that bastard again. He’d… heard Tony ask about Quinn that morning… and the look that Bron shot him didn’t make Cullen feel comfortable about… anything. But he didn’t dare speak up. He had thought it odd that she hadn’t been around though… he _did_ say that. Bron… didn’t look at him. Cullen felt a chill run down his spine. Bron’s low spoken words of _she’s out looking for fresh meat_ didn’t make him feel any better at all. When he was outside on a _smoke break_ though he didn’t technically smoke… he dialed her pager number for the first time… using his personal cell. He listened to her voicemail… it was an automated one… it just read off her number. He didn’t leave a message, knew he didn’t have to. He waited… she never called back. He found out why that evening.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Blood magic and violence incoming.

Cullen was sitting in one of the ratty chairs around the low coffee table in the warehouse… up on the almost stage-like platform that over looked the garage type area. He was flipping a coin aimlessly from one finger to the next, letting it roll over his knuckles while Tony jabbered on like a fucking monkey about how he could never figure out how to do that. Darrell was tossing cards into a nearby bucket, some of the other boys were likewise just killing time. The wide roll top door suddenly started groaning and in pulled two of those fancy ass cars. Bron came trotting out of his quote unquote _office_ and clapped his hands with a broad grin. _Perk up boys, the big boss is here._ He said right before the door on the white Royce opened and out stepped Jakar. The man sneered for a brief moment before feigning surprised joy to see Bron. He held his hand up in greeting and even embraced him though it was obviously, at least to Cullen, that he wanted to do anything but. The door on the black Royce opened and Al-Raziar stepped out but hovered near the door and… Cullen felt damn near every joint in his body lock. He pulled Quinn out after him… but… something was obviously wrong with her. He had her dressed in a slinky red dress that showed more than it covered… her hair was pulled up in a sort of spiraling up-do that would have been elegant had she not had such a stoic expression on her face. Cullen fumbled the coin but quickly caught it before it could hit the concrete floor and draw attention to his blunder. Her face… her _fucking face._ She had a shit ton of make up on but it was painfully obvious what that bastard had done to her fucking face. He could see the sickening yellow and purple hue beneath the makeup beneath her left eye… the swelling of her lower lip… and the glassy look in her eyes. He saw… so… many… fine hairline cuts all over her body. He no doubt healed her before they left whatever sick dungeon he’d been keeping her in. He watched as she stumbled beside him just slightly… and had this… dazed look about her. His eyes flew down her arms and he barely contained the curse that wanted to tumble out of him. He saw the track marks on her… she probably wasn’t even aware she was even _here_ right now. Cullen became suddenly aware that… he wasn’t the only one staring at her. He felt… more than one of the guys on the crew staring… and more than half weren’t staring out of concern. But… Cullen’s eyes flicked around the room. A few them had that quiet… sullen look. The look that said they weren’t okay with what they were witnessing… but they weren’t going to say anything. Cullen shot a look at Bron… the man had that same look but only for a heartbeat before Jakar regained his full attention.

Cullen managed to keep himself under control… but damn it was hard. He felt his powers pushing against his skin… prowling around like some fucking caged animal. When Jakar and Al-Raziar took a walk out on the dock… and that son of a bitch took Quinn with him (of course)… and Bron stepped back into his office, Cullen made a beeline for him. He shot a look that promised death at the stocky man that stood guard at Bron’s door… it was the first time he’d actually given a look like that here, amongst these… people. Thus far he’d been the laid back new dude… at the moment though, that look he gave the man… this… _Luke_ … made him shrink back. He stepped in Bron’s office and shut the door behind him, jerked the cord on the blinds and pulled them down.

Bron jerked his head up, saw Ryan. “What the fuck are you doing—“ He didn’t get another word out. Suddenly he found himself hauled up and over his desk and on the fucking floor?! Ryan was over him, his hands fisted in his jacket, the man’s eyes lit like a fucking beacon, flaring bright blue down at him. Templars had always given him the heebs… and Ryan was no fucking different. He regained himself quickly though, his hand flew down to the ten mill he kept on his belt… but he didn’t get a chance to draw it either. His hand bloomed in pain and he didn’t even get a chance to fucking cry out from it either! A thick hand clapped over his mouth and he felt a knee slam down onto his chest, pinning him down.

Cullen seethed… and it showed. Rage clawed at him as he wretched the gun out of his hand, cocked it back and angled it around, setting the barrel between his beady little eyes. “ _How the fuck… did that sick son of a bitch… get his hands… on Quinn… again…”_ He growled down at him from behind clinched teeth before he removed his hand from the man’s mouth so he could answer him. The gun… it stayed right where it was though.

Bron swallowed down his nerves, holding his hands out instinctively before… he looked up at him differently. At first he thought Ryan was a fucking nark, a cop… a spy… a mole! But now… _holy shit_ … he was staring up a whole lot of pissed off big ass dude. And this anger was true, coming from a really bad place. “What do you mean… again… she left with him last Friday…” He grimaced as he felt the bite of the barrel dig into his forehead.

Cullen leaned down, his expression chilling further as he started to slip down into that role. The role that allowed him to kill pieces of shit like this without blinking, without feeling guilty or remorseful. “And left him the next morning.” He gave him a perk of his brows, prompting him to continue.

Bron blinked up at him. “Wh…” He closed his mouth, his lips forming a thin line before a sneer pulled at them. So that’s where she’d fucking gone. “I didn’t have a fucking choice, man!” He suddenly said as he started shifting anxiously. “He was going to fucking kill me… he… she shouldn’t have fucking ran off like that, what the fuck was she thinking!?”

Cullen’s features threatened to turn fierce as he bared down on him again. “Do you know what that sick fucker did to her?” His eyes flared when he saw that look in Bron’s eyes. He knew. He knew what Al-Raziar did to women and he sent her to him anyway. He felt a murderous rage starting to fill him up… he had… he had everything he needed right here… right now. All of the players were in one place… he could… he could take care of it right here.. right now. His eyes flicked back and forth between Bron’s before he blinked slow… and made the call. He pulled the gun away from his forehead, heard the bastard breathe a sigh of relief. He shook his head down at him before he suddenly bent low and set his lips to his ear, whispered words fell from him… an incantation… old… ancient… and effective. Bron’s eyes widened and then clouded over… and when the cloud dissipated, Bron was as relaxed as if he were at the fucking spa. Cullen released him entirely and stood up, tucking the ten mill in the back of his jeans. “You stay in here… sit down at your desk… enjoy the paper.” He said low, watching as Bron moved automatically… and did exactly as he was told. “You don’t come out until I come get you.” _Yeah… that… that sounds like a plan._ Bron’s voice sounded distant… and rightfully so. The dude was one step up from an invalid at this point. Cullen stepped out of the office and raised a challenging brow at the man to his left. He just walked away and headed for the garage doors… and the security panels that were there. He didn’t move fast… he felt that sense of calm falling over him as he stepped up to one, and acted like he knew what he was doing… like he was supposed to be doing it… because he was. Just not in the way any of them thought. He hacked in… locked the perimeter to the docks fences down. Done. He sent up a lazy wave and stepped outside… thus were the reason for his _smoke_ _breaks_. He got about fifty yards from the warehouse before he pulled out his personal cell… he punched in the four digit code… hit send… waited until it vibrated four times in short pulses in his hand and then tossed it in the water. _Show time._ When he turned back around… it might as well have been a different man all together. His hands reaching behind him, beneath his coat… pulling out one of the two Beretta 92FS Brigadiers he had strapped to him, and had been carrying ever since he’d been _accepted_ into their fucked up little club. Equipped with a silencer that even the church would be envious of… he leveled it on the three guards outside the warehouse and squeezed off the rounds without blinking, three shots, three down. Simple as that and as fast as breathing and just as natural to him. He leaned against the corrugated metal wall and took a steadying breath, easing it in and out of his lungs… he gave a sharp whistle… two men walked out of the warehouse, two men fell. He stepped around the corner, angled the barrel in one of the broken windows… and started. By the time he was done, which was to say, less than a minute later… he was pulling out the empty magazine just as the last man inside was slumping over in his chair. Well, not the _last_ man, Bron was still sitting at his desk reading his newspaper like a good little boy. Cullen reloaded, cocked the barrel back and ghosted down the side of the warehouse. Now… now it was going to get tricky. He glanced around the corner and down the docks… he saw Jakar and his two guards… Al-Raziar with his man… and Quinn. They were all lounging there… Cullen’s jaw shook from the sudden stab of rage that went through him. Al-Raziar had Quinn laid over his lap… he was kissing her neck while he had his hand up her dress between her legs… his other hand held an old fashioned straight razor delicately… and there was a fresh cut on her arm… his fingers smearing the blood that was dripping down her bicep as the red glow ebbed around his hand. What he wouldn’t give for a fucking rifle right about now… he knew his Beretta could make that distance but there was no guarantee he’d hit Al-Raziar and miss Quinn… not this far away… not with this gun. He heard Jakar chuckle low and saw him shake his head at the display but he wore a hungry grin. Cullen tried to force his anger away… and failed the moment he saw Al-Raziar drag that blade across her skin again… saw him twist his hips beneath her and his mouth fall open in obvious ecstasy. Cullen reached behind him, pulled his secondary weapon, aimed them both as he stepped out… and took down all the guards as he walked steadily towards the dock. His boots hit the sagging sea boards just as he had both of the head men in his sights… Al-Raziar pulled Quinn in front of him as he stood up, he thrust his hand out and sent an errant spell at Cullen, the trail woven with dark energy and blood magic. Cullen threw his arm out in an arc, twisting his wrist as he fired, the bullet went around it and caught Jakar right between the eyes before he dropped that gun and held up his forearm, his eyes flaring bright as his powers bled out of him, the blue shield blooming out of his arm a fraction of a second before the spell slammed into him. He braced his weight, throwing it into the impact… still, his boots slid on the wet boards as he was pushed backwards. He grimaced as he felt the force of the spell pressing against his weakened powers… mental muscles he hadn’t had to use in… so long. He yelled out defiantly and lunged forward, throwing his arm out wide, sending the spell away finally. He was already winded and panting, his eyes almost supernova they were so bright. “You’re finished _malificar._ ” He said it cold… but he felt pure hate fueled rage inside him.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violence and blood magic continued. Plus angst.

Al-Raziar kept the woman firmly in front of him. Templars… so easily manipulated… so easily controlled. It was their righteous fucking nobility. He clucked his tongue at the man and when he aimed his gun at him again, he brought the razor up under the woman’s chin and pitched her head back at the same time. “ _Tisk, tisk,_ templar… we wouldn’t want anything to happen to this precious thing… now would we?” He kept his eyes fixed on him, even as he angled his chin and brushed his lips over her ear. “Drop your weapon.” He watched the man tighten his hold on the gun. “Do it or she dies!” He yelled suddenly, his voice booming out around them… she didn’t even flinch. He had her under so deep, it was a wonder she was still fucking conscious. He’d had to drug her days ago… she had spirit, which he liked to a certain point… but he had grown weary of her incessant prattle and her useless attempts to fight him. He watched as the templar gave him a murderous glare… but slowly put his gun on the ground. “See there, my dear… you just have to know how to deal with people.” He kicked his chin towards the man again. “Kick it into the water.” He watched as he stood up and sullenly did as he was told. “There… now…” He wrapped his arm around her silky waist and held her against him more comfortably. “Tell me, my dear… this one… this… Ryan…” He shifted his weight. “How well do you know him?”

Cullen felt a lick of fear brush against his spine. _Shit_. His eyes flicked to Quinn’s… which were still glassy, her pupils nearly eclipsing her irises… and fixed ahead of her as she nearly stumbled when he shifted his weight. _Please.. God… don’t do this. Punish me later… but not her. Please._

Al-Raziar stroked her side with his fingers. Her cadence filled the small space around them.

_“Pretty well.”_

He smiled deviously and licked his lip. “Tell me… do you know… his weakness… something that can… really… really hurt him.”

Cullen hid his nervousness well… but he couldn’t help but stare at her. Willing her to… snap out of… whatever it was… he was doing to her.

_“He wants… lyrium.“_

He heard her say… god her voice sounded so far away.

 “ _He… he hates… blood mages… and…”_

He saw her starting to fidget. He saw Al-Raziar’s eyes flash red, his pupils shinning as he pressed his hold upon her further… forcing her to tell him. Cullen’s eyes settled on hers… and he was taken aback to see her looking at him… but it was as if she were underwater for the way she didn’t quite seem to see him entirely. _Come on, Quinn… fight him._

“ _He’s scared.”_

Al-Raziar perked his brows slightly and gave Cullen a somewhat teasing look. “Oh… really… scared of what… come now dear, don’t leave us hanging.” He pinned Cullen with a look that said if he dared move… he angled the blade just slightly there on her throat, cutting into the skin the slightest bit.

 _“….”_ Quinn fidgeted further… started to tremble slightly… she yelped when Al-Raziar jerked her against him and the blade bit in further. _“Of… of… being a slave to lyrium again. He… he… he can’t… he doesn’t want to be chained. He’s… he’s scared if he takes it again… it’ll control him again. He wants it but fears it._ ”

Cullen’s outward appearance didn’t falter at all.. he cursed under his breath and shot daggers at her with his eyes. “Bitch.” Was what he had cursed under his breath… in his mind? He was thanking her a million times over. She… she was lying her ass off to him.

Al-Raziar smirked. “A true addict, hmm, Templar?” He shook his head. “Such a pity.” He gave Cullen an odd look… as if he really did pity him or at the very least, the situation. “The only lyrium I have with me…” He jerked the blade across her throat in one swift motion. “Is right here in her veins. _Elian kantante._ ” He armed the bomb in her skin and shoved her forward, turned, already breaking into a run.

Cullen had widened his stance… ready to attack. He saw… something… flicker in Al-Raziar’s eyes that… his entire expression exploded in shocked horror. “No!” He leapt forward as his world seemed to slow to a crawl. But… none of it happened the way he thought it would…

Quinn had jerked back at the precise moment… the blade didn’t go as deep as he’d expected. But blood still poured down her chest. She turned around, her pupils bloomed… red light poured out of her eyes as she raised her hands, fingers hooked as she braced her weight on the foot that stepped behind her. “ _Alienta kalarak!!”_ She yelled the incantation, the words boomed out of her, the power echoed, reverberated through every red blood cell that had been spilt… tendrils of darkness chased after Al-Raziar, wrapped around him… dove into him… into his eyes, ears… down his throat… choked the life from him in a single moment of pain and retribution.

Cullen slid, fell… was knocked back from the force of her spell as it exploded out of her. He heard an eerie howl as Al-Raziar was ripped from the mortal coil… and then a sickening thud. His eyes flew open, his arm dropped from shielding his face. “Quinn!” He leapt towards her, pulled her up into his arms… she was so… so damn cold. “No!!! Quinn, no!” He pushed her hair from her face and covered the wound on her neck, it wasn’t bleeding as bad as it had been but it was still there. “God _damn it_ , no!” He pushed his fingers against her carotid, seeking a pulse. He… he couldn’t find one. He fought the initial wave of desperation and fear that gripped him. “NO!” He laid her out and tore that _other_ cell from his pocket and dialed the secure number, stuffing the phone up to his ear before he started chest compressions. “Rutherford, C. four nine seven three… I need immediate medical evac. One female… twenty nine years of age… suffering from a severe laceration to the throat… just… no… no pulse… just send one right now!” He let the phone fall from his hold and started counting under his breath as his vision started to swim. He had no idea how long it took before he heard the feint sound of chopper blades in the air. Another few moments and he felt hands on his shoulders, heard the authoritative tones around him… latex hands covered his and he was pulled away, someone else taking over the compressions. He fell back and slid away, waving a hand in a way that showed his despair. “Save… save her…” He could hardly hear his own voice as he fought a hiccup, his voice sounding wet.


	19. Chapter 19

Cullen sat there and watched as she was loaded onto a gurney… as they breathed for her… as they sent electricity into her body, forcing her heart to beat again. As they declared they had a weak pulse… as they lifted her up… as they kept pushing on her chest in a way that he knew would mean she’d have cracked ribs… from both him… and them. _Captain._ He looked up and took a ragged breath before he climbed to his feet and absentmindedly wiped at his rear before he took the offered hand towel with a scowl… realizing his hands were covered in blood. He wiped them down and looked back at… “Captain.” He cut his eyes away from one of his comrades. They were all _Captain_ when they were in the field. This man was Major Rylen Chase. Another former Templar… though he hadn’t tried to quit taking lyrium. Thus… he could tell exactly what had gone down, he could still feel the tingle in the air… smell the ozone in the air. “Al-Raziar is over there.” He pointed to what was left of him. “Bronson is inside, I pulled him under for questioning.” He cleared his throat, purposefully not looking at him. He knew… he… fucked up.

Rylen stared hard at Cullen… he’d never seen him so much as _bothered_ after a job, let alone rattled like this. He was the one who had pulled him away from the woman… he saw the desperation in his features, heard him when he said to save her. The informant. He nodded as Cullen gave about the most detailed field report he had ever gotten from the man. Which told him exactly how out of hand things had gotten. “Jakar?” Cullen pointed to the body floating in the water. Rylen shook his head at him… at the body so brazenly left out in the open like that… he just... couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Cullen was always perfect… he never faltered, he never made a mess like this. He looked at him carefully and opened his mouth but… just shook his head in the end. He clapped him on the shoulder and walked past him, aiming to go collect Bronson.

Cullen was frozen by indecision as he watched the helicopter lifting up into the sky. _Please live._ That was all he wanted… he just wanted her to _live._ He turned away once he could no longer make it out amongst the skyline… and made way back towards the warehouse to help clean up his mess, though he wasn’t much use.

Later that night, he was sitting in the temporary office the agency was using here in Dublin, a cup of stale coffee in front of him on the Formica covered table. He was staring at a chip on the lip of the mug when he heard the irritation in Rylen’s voice. He looked up slow, his brows perking slightly. “Hmm?” He… hadn’t been listening, truth be told. He was thinking… sort of. He was replaying it over and over in his mind. He hadn’t heard word one about Quinn… and it had been hours now. According to his watch… it was three in the morning actually. He heard Rylen say something else… he had no idea what. His tenor mumbled out of him as he looked down at his hands, rubbing them together in his lap slowly, taking a ragged breath. “I should have gone with her.”

Rylen blinked… stared at Cullen. _Jesus_. “Hey!” He slapped the file down onto the table loudly. “Snap out of it.” He nearly growled. He shook his head sharply and sat down in the chair heavily and listed to the side, digging out his cigarettes. He lit one up and exhaled with a frustrated sigh. “You really fucked up tonight, Cullen.” He flipped the file folder open and shook his head with a disgusted expression. “What the fuck were you thinking? We needed Al-Raziar _alive_. We needed intel.” He ground out, shoving some of the scene photos away from him to get to Bronson’s testimony. “Bronson knew fuck all nothing!” He barked frustratingly. Months… _months_ of preparation had been all for _nothing_.

Cullen’s expression was stoic, he just shook his head slow and slight at Rylen’s outburst. He knew the man had every right to be pissed. He knew he screwed up… in more ways than one. “I’ll take whatever punishment is required.” He said low.

Rylen’s eyes snapped up to him. “Oh, I know you will.” He ground out, ashing the cigarette sharply. His knee bouncing under the table in his anger. He was quiet for a moment before he jerked all over and leaned forward. “I just don’t get it… I sent you in on this because you were the best, you’ve never done anything like this and now, you fuck it all up for what? For what?! A piece of ass?!” Rylen didn’t even see the man move… one moment he was seething… the next? His face was slammed down onto the table, his cheek smashed against the ages past prime covering, he felt the collar of his battledress bunched up around the back of his neck… he could practically hear Cullen’s breathing.

Cullen bared down on him. “You don’t call her that! You _never_ call her that!” He bellowed, his anger… his fear… his worry… all of it snapped inside of him. He was sitting on a fucking hair trigger and Rylen should have known better. The only reason he outranked him was because _he_ had turned down the promotion. It meant he’d no longer be in the field… so it went to Rylen. He shoved him away and sat back down, his expression hardened as he tried to take a full breath.

Rylen was thrown back into his chair… he gave Cullen a hard look and just… stared at him. The man’s eyes were lit… his jaw was clinched so tight it was a wonder he wasn’t breaking his fucking teeth. He’d known Cullen for years… he’d known him when they were _both_ in the Order. Back before shit went sideways. He respected him… but right now? He… he didn’t know what to think. “… You been taking your Liriodone?”

Cullen shot him a look. “Every morning.” He supplied simply, giving him a shrug. “This has nothing to do with that.” Well… not entirely.

Rylen narrowed his eyes at him. “Bullshit. I could feel the disruption in the air on that pier. You started back on the blue?” He tilted his head at him.

Cullen shifted nervously, looking more sullen than before. “Sort of.” His eyes flicked up to Rylen’s… and the way he was still boring a hole into him with that look. “Quinn’s an apostate.”

Rylen cursed under his breath. “So you did sleep with her.” He shook his head. “Fuck, Cullen… what the hell were you thinking? No, wait, you weren’t, were you?” He pulled another cigarette, at this rate, he might as well be chain smoking. “So… that’s what this entire fucked up situation is _all_ about. You lost your shit over a bloody woman.” He exhaled and slapped at the file again. “You really screwed me here, Cullen, you do know that, don’t you? What am I supposed to put down? Hmm? How the hell am I supposed to write this up? _Dear Colonel, Sorry about the intelligence we needed but our man wanted to get laid and ya know how that goes._ ”

Cullen sighed heavily and shifted in his chair, pursing his lips as he shook his head. “What do you want me to say, Rylen?” He drug a hand through his hair, his tenor catching as he thought about what all he’d given up… and how easy it had been. He swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat. He felt despair started to fill him up… he knew… he could never see her again. She was gone, even if she survived… that was it. He’d be sent on to some other dark shit hole to do something else… or he’d be decommissioned entirely. She’d be… who the hell knows. They might have already turned her over to the church. He looked up at him suddenly, his eyes shining and not with his powers. “Write whatever the fuck you want.” He stood up, pushing the papers towards him. “Tell them I was tempted by peace.” He heard his voice break… he ignored it. “Tell them…” He threw a hand up and let it fall. “It doesn’t matter.” He turned around and made for the door, jerking it open and storming out… down the hall, around the corner, aiming for the bank of elevators. His world was swimming… all he could see was the way her chest followed the paddles up as they pumped so much electricity into her that he could feel it crackle in the air. All he could hear was her voice, defiance and fight screaming in her lilting accent as she spoke words he _knew_ she’d never said before… as she crossed a line he _knew_ she would have never crossed… as she _protected him_. As she gave her life for him. It was only after, when he was uselessly walking around that warehouse did he connect the dots. The lie she told… she knew what Al-Raziar was going to do with that information… she had been counting on it, waiting for it. He deciphered the look in her eyes now… longing… sorrow… refusal to let this creature that had hurt her… hurt _him_. All he could _feel_ was how limp she had been in his arms… how cold her skin had felt… the way her sternum gave way under his hands as he desperately tried to _make_ her live. His mind replayed the words that had fallen from his lips as he waited for the elevator. _Don’t leave me… please Quinn… don’t leave me here alone. I don’t want to be alone anymore. Stay with me, please…_ he took a ragged breath, feeling his heart threaten to shatter as he was forced to brace his weight on the edge of the frame for the doors, his other hand covering his mouth as the weight of the loss pushed down on him. He didn’t know… if she was alive… or… if she had been ushered on to wherever… angels like her went when they died. But the world would never let him have her. His eyes were squeezed shut so tight that the muscles ached… he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He didn’t need to look to know that it was Rylen. He didn’t want Rylen’s pity… nor his attempted comfort. He wanted Quinn. He wanted her in his arms… where he knew she was safe.


	20. Chapter 20

Rylen frowned as he felt Cullen shaking, it was slight but it was there. He’d never seen him so much as smile when he wasn’t pretending to. So far today alone he had seen him angry… desperate… lost… and right now, he didn’t miss the errant tear that dropped from his tightly shut eyes and fell to the low ply beneath their boots. He was hurting… something fierce. And there weren’t enough pain killers in the world to help him right now. He took a heavy breath and forced himself to remember that Cullen was his friend… not just his peer or comrade… that they were brothers in arms. That he had pulled the man away from a woman who was courting death… a woman who’s blood Cullen now wore all down his front, a pronounced handprint on his face… where he obviously had to have put her hand there for her. That handprint bisected by streaks that could have been caused by only one thing. He knew the horrors that haunted Cullen, the things that plagued him. He didn’t know the exact particulars… the details per say. But he did know what had caused him to split away from the Order. Why he did what he did and how he did it. He sighed heavily and drug out his cell phone… tapped on the screen a few times and brought it up to his ear. “O’Connal, R. Seven two nine one. I need a status update on Quinn McTearin.”

Cullen’s head snapped up, his eyes pinning Rylen intensely as the man kept his hand on his shoulder and the phone up to his ear, he wiped at his eyes roughly, angrily if truth be told.

“Okay.” He gave a subtle nod to Cullen. “Yeah…” His features hardened as he paused. “Excuse me?” His brows slowly rose. “No. She doesn’t leave that hospital room until one of my people comes and signs her out…. I don’t care what kind of position that puts you in.” He stepped around Cullen and pushed on the button again as if that would bring the elevator up to the fifteen floor of this high rise any faster. “It’s classified. She does not leave.” He mashed the red circle and stuffed the phone down into his pocket. “We have to go.” He cut his eyes at Cullen.

Cullen swallowed against the lump in his throat. “They called the church.” Rylen gave a subtle nod. Cullen cursed under his breath just as the elevator doors were opening. He was the one to push the G button, damn near cracking the plastic. By the time they hit the garage level, he was developing tunnel vision. He heard Rylen speaking… the next minute a suburban pulled up in front of them, they climbed in and Cullen felt a bag being thrust into his lap. He didn’t have to ask what it was. As the blacked out suburban hit the street, he had already jerked his coat off and was pulling his tee shirt over his head. He changed as the vehicle with diplomatic plates flew through the streets in the early morning hours, the sun barely lighting the sky. When it pulled up in front of the hospital, the tires squealed as it came to a stop so abruptly. Cullen stepped out, combat boots shifting under him as he pivoted. From head to toe, he looked like the killer he was. From the black battledress that spanned his entire body, covering him from ankle to wrist to neck, the under armor shirt that went _up_ his neck like a turtleneck, to the tactical vest and belt, weapons strapped to his thigh and waist, under his arms. The clear coiled wire that came out of his collar and slid over his ear, settling down into it… the reflective stitching that embroidered the brazen emblems of the Royal Navy on his collar… the single identifier on his shoulders that marked him as non-utilitarian… which meant he was of their special units. Since anonymity was crucial, they all wore the same name badge… the same rank… and the same non-utilitarian symbol. No matter if they were spec-ops or intelligence or any of the other handful of special units. His blonde curly hair tended to stand out though… Rylen’s more subdued brown hair that fell in waves around his ears tended to give him a more roguish appearance rather than boyish.

Cullen walked beside Rylen… and they didn’t part for anyone, people parted for _them_. That was the aura they both put off, especially with the look on their faces. While Cullen had forced himself to school his features into only looking mildly pissed off on the way over here… that had all fled the moment he saw the Templar vehicles that had likewise been parked out front. Now? It was taking everything he had to not let the blue glow flash in his eyes… he felt it humming just there beneath the surface of his skin though… fueled by his rage. He turned his back into the elevator when they entered, ignoring the fearful looks from the doctors and nurses that were in the oversized elevator with them. He exchanged knowing looks with Rylen… they were going to have to throw down with the Order. Cullen gave him a subtle nod… _thank you_ … that’s what it said. Rylen exchanged it and offered him his fist… he knocked his knuckles against it… he didn’t know what had changed Rylen’s mind or made him… do this… but… he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth at the moment. The left the elevator and Rylen glanced at the signs on the wall in front of them… he turned to the right. Cullen saw them down at the end of the hall… he forced himself _not_ to charge ahead.

Rylen saw them too. There were six Templars standing down there… all in a formation… all looking tense… all of them staring down a meek looking doctor that was standing in front of a door. Rylen could hear his stammering voice telling the Templar directly in front of him that he couldn’t allow them into the patient’s room without the proper consent, that this was _not_ an Andrastian Hospital. And… surprisingly… he very bravely added that they had no authority here. Rylen could practically see the man shaking he was so intimidated. Just as the Templar was about to speak, no doubt to sneer something nasty at the man, just as the Templar took that breath in and leaned forward, Rylen lifted his hand. “That’ll be all, Doctor. Thank you.” The doctor looked at him like he’d just thrown him the biggest life line _ever_. He muttered some sort of _you’re welcome_ and scurried away. Rylen and Cullen… took his place in front of the door. Rylen narrowed his eyes at the Templar… the ever present blue glow around the man’s brown irises spoke of his station. While Rylen still took lyrium, he took a small draft every few days, just keep on the straight and narrow… thus, he didn’t have that telling outward sign. “Gentlemen.” He said civilly, but his stance was anything but friendly.

Cullen put the door knob at his lower back and flicked his eyes over each of the Templars in rapid succession, easily sizing them up, identifying rank, station, skill set, age, and more importantly, what they were packing. The man in the front was a hunter… and he was heavily armed, and like all hunters… around his belt were hooked quite a few collars that once latched around a mage’s neck, would render them unable to cast. That… once attached… would tether the mage to the templar by the runes forged into the titanium. Cullen watched as a few of the Templars shifted their weight, folded their arms over their chest in a show of intimidation… which was a stupid move really. Cullen and Rylen both did nothing of the sort… they kept their hands down by their hips… inches away from the holsters of their weapons. There were _some_ things the Order didn’t teach and the military did. This was one of them. Cullen didn’t trust himself to speak.

The Templar Hunter felt like sneering… but he didn’t. He’d already been standing here, barred from this Apostate for fifteen fucking minutes. They’d received the call when she woke up from whatever coma she had spelled herself into… she’d killed a man, had the brand on her neck… thus, they did what the law required. Thus, they were here. But… when they _got_ here… the doctor tried to play barricade. Now, here comes this Navy bastard, acting like he had any fucking right to stand between him… and his quarry. “Move.” His eyes bloomed over as his hold on his belt tightened, he was so very done playing these games.


	21. Chapter 21

Rylen smirked at the word and the move both… something he’d done a million times in his past… something he’d actually done in tandem with Cullen more than once. Something they _both_ still did from time to time… it was a Templar’s go to move and it usually worked. That single word, that single show of power was _usually_ enough to send even the bravest tough guy shrinking away from them. It kind of fell flat on two ex-Templars though. Rylen could practically feel the rage rolling off of Cullen. If he didn’t get these jack offs to _back off_ , Cullen was going to lose his shit… of that he had no doubt. “Yeah, see, about that.” He shifted his weight, keeping eye contact as he felt the disruption starting to fill the air, a byproduct of the Templar abilities. “Miss McTearin is a material witness in an ongoing Royal Navy investigation. She will remain in our custody until such time that we see fit to release her.” The beginning had started out civilly but by the end, Rylen’s voice had a cutting edge to it and his brow was a slash over his eyes that burned with lethality.

The Hunter did sneer this time. This hopped up soldier didn’t know when to fucking quit. By all laws in every sovereignty, Templars had diplomatic immunity when it came to Apostates. _Especially_ blood mages. He carefully controlled his movements as he pointed at the door behind the two soldier boys who wouldn’t know real horrors if it came up and bit them on their Kevlar covered asses. “That _malificar_ is mine.” He growled from behind clinched teeth. “I’m giving you this one chance to walk away… before I consider the both of you collateral damage.” He felt his brothers at his back pressing against him with their powers, ready to throw down.

Cullen’s barely leashed control snapped as he leaned forward just enough, his eyes bloomed as his power arced out of him, Rylen’s flashed beside him. He didn’t have to look to know he was looking every bit as formidable as _he_ was. “What your tongue, boy.” Cullen’s tenor echoed around them, coming from nowhere but everywhere at the same time, his powers augmenting it to a level the likes these Knights couldn’t even begin to reach yet.

Rylen internally groaned but dutifully showed he would have Cullen’s back on this. He was actually quite impressed that Cullen hadn’t attacked, with the way he’d been acting today? Hell, that man had killed fifteen people last night and hadn’t flinched. Granted, he did that often… but this time it was personal. Rylen returned the Hunter’s sneer, giving him a look from his head to his shinned boots… he looked over the other _boys_ that had joined him. He felt that power running through his veins, pulsing in his heart. “What do you say Knight Commander…” He used Cullen’s old rank… when they had been stationed together in Kirkwall just outside Bristol. “I call him… him… and him.” Rylen pointed out three of the six men.

The Hunter’s eyes had flared in surprise… as had the rest of his men. They were both… _ex-Templars_. His hatred surged forward. Men who’d dropped the shield, turned from God. His hands fell to the holsters of his guns that hung low on his hips. The men behind him all likewise felt that rage, that anger… glaring at the traitors in front of them.

Cullen shook his head with another sneer. “Too easy.” He made a show of sizing them up, especially the Hunter. “I put him at two… three years on the shield… _tops_.” He opened his eyes slow as his power flared again, barely in control of it, Cullen was teetering on the edge.

Rylen clucked his tongue, trying to keep the banter going… hoping that the comradery between him and his brother in arms could keep him from doing anything particularly stupid. “I don’t know, Cullen… I’d put him at a year and half, myself. See how he’s already got his hands on his swords… giving us plenty of time to anticipate his draw.”

The Hunter’s expression shifted as recognition flew through him like hot oil… he visibly swallowed and took a subtle step back. “Knight Commander Cullen…” He’d heard… stories. He was… a ruthless commander in Kirkwall. He was… he overthrew the original Knight Commander there… and took her place, as he should have. But he was still legendary. He cleared his throat.. it didn’t change what he was doing here. “You know as well as I do that once a mage turns to blood magic, there is no redemption to be had.”

Rylen instinctively put his hand over Cullen’s chest… and his instincts had been right, Cullen surged forward, his power arcing out of him as his face twisted with dark intentions, more than one light bulb in the hallway sparked and went out, the glass shattering inside its protective globe. “Easy.”

Cullen’s eyes were fixed on that son of a bitch. “Iliad—“ He felt Ryan push on his chest firmer.

“Don’t.” Rylen said low… pushing against Cullen even more… it actually took more force than he thought.

The Hunter took in a sharp breath, felt the Templars behind him bracing themselves for the incantation that Cullen was so willing to doll out in response to the truth and the law! But there were only two incantations that began that way… and neither were easy to deflect or recover from. And given the Knight Commander’s previous station, he knew both and could easily incite both of them to their fullest capacity. Lyrium didn’t give Templars their powers… they merely allowed them the strength to use them and control them. He knew neither before him still partook but it mattered little… both were still lethal. “Think carefully before you go against the Church, Knight Commander.”

Cullen sneered at him. “As if that concerns me.” He turned away sharply, wretched the door handle over and stepped into the hospital room, shutting the door sharply behind him. In the near darkness… he exhaled a ragged breath that shook his lungs unevenly.

Rylen held the Hunter’s eye as Cullen dismissed him and went into the hospital room. He shook his head at him, shifting to stand in front of the knob himself. “He doesn’t respond well to threats, _Knight_ … and lease of all a threat of the Church. He already went against them… what in the _hell_ makes you think he wouldn’t do it again. Now… I suggest you take your brothers and go before this truly gets out of hand.” Rylen kicked his chin down the hall… where the rest of his team had just walked off the elevator. A contingent of twelve men who were dressed identical to Cullen and himself… and as heavily armed… flanked either side of the hallway and were making way down here. The only difference? They held rifles on their backs, unlike Cullen and himself.

The Hunter followed Rylen’s gesture and cursed low under his breath before he sent a hard look at Rylen as he licked his teeth… and stepped back, gave a sharp yet quiet whistle. He and his men left… but he knew… she couldn’t escape them for long. The hospital was required by law to obtain a bottle of her blood… they had a phylactery now. They passed through the group of black clad soldiers… which was a challenge since none of them were willing to step aside. He was slammed into roughly, his shoulder jerking backwards by a man with a strange tattoo over his nose that appeared to be a swipe of blood… it was the oddest tattoo he’d ever seen. He just kept going. Once they were downstairs and in their own vehicles, aiming for the cathedral… the Hunter reached down into the pouch on his belt for the mage’s phylactery… a cruel smirk pulling at him but he froze. He started searching for it near frantically… cursing out loud. It was gone.

Hawke gave Rylen a devious grin as he flipped up a phylactery and wiggled it. “They never learn.”

Rylen smirked at him, shaking his head at the man who towered over him… well… towered was a strong word. Rylen was an inch shorter than Cullen while Hawke was six four. Just an inch taller than Cullen. “And here I thought you gave up stealing, Hawke.”

Hawke scoffed and stood beside Rylen, pulling his rifle off his back and holding it in front of him in a way that was second nature. “It’s hardly stealing when it’s that easy.” The rest of the men did the same, flanking the door and hallway both. They didn’t know why they were here… well, they had been told the same. This was a material witness. That was all they cared to know.


	22. Chapter 22

Cullen’s eyes were fixed a head of him on the hospital bed that looked like it might as well have been a million miles away. The blinds on the windows let in light from the dawn in thin slices across the thermal woven blanket that they had draped over her. There was a subtle whooshing sound that he quickly deduced came from a ventilator or… no, oxygen machine beside the bed. She didn’t have a tube in her throat… she had one under her nose. They had an iv pole set up beside her but it wasn’t hooked up to her anymore… or at least it wasn’t right now. There was a heart rate monitor beeping steadily beside her, hooked up to a clamp on her finger. His heart skipped more than a few beats as he crossed the room slowly and lifted a hand to run down his mouth… he felt the near scraggly state of his beard and suddenly felt… unclean. He shouldn’t have come to her… not like this. He should have showered… something… not.. his eyes focused on her lips, they were parted just slightly. Her hands laid beside her… he saw one of her fingers twitch just slightly and he couldn’t help but reach for her hand. He wrapped his fingers around hers and thought he’d fall to his knees for the chill he felt in those slender fingers of hers. “You’re so cold, baby…” He spoke low as he knelt down and cradled her hand to his lips and blew unsteady huffs of air onto her knuckles, cupping his other hand around the action, trying to breathe life back into her.

Quinn felt hot breath on her hand… and… something tickling her nose. She felt… like she’d been drugged. She slowly started to wake but it was hard… each time she thought she could open her eyes… she’d slip back down again. She heard… someone talking? _Quinn…_ She knew that voice. She felt like it took everything just to breathe… like she was… on top of the highest mountain. _Come on, Angel…_ she tried to open her eyes… she.. she _knew_ that voice. She felt the oddest sensation against her palm, it was… she didn’t know. Her brow creased as she tried to think… but her mind was clouded, foggy… she couldn’t… _Open your eyes for me, baby._

Cullen had her hand set to his cheek as he tried to ease his storm… but he couldn’t get that image out of his head, the one of the color leaving her as he pressed on her chest, begging her to stay with him. “Please…” He breathed the word, hating that his chin shook the slightest bit. She was in this bed because of him. She was here because of him. She… all of this was his fault. His features trembled and he bowed his head, burring his face in their arms that he folded on the edge of the bed. “Please, Angel…”

Quinn felt warmth spread up her arm… and that voice again. _Cullen_. The name drifted through her subconscious like it floated on a cloud. _Please, Angel._ She peeled her eyes open slow… she could only manage half way. The room wasn’t brightly lit but it still burned her eyes and made them water. Her mouth felt as dry as cotton, her tongue too large for her mouth… and the room kept tilting, making her stomach roll. She let her head roll to the side… blonde curls were the first thing she saw, the early dawn light catching the golden hue of them. He had his face hidden as he held onto her hand and forearm as if it were everything to him. She closed her eyes again… she had no idea how long this time… but he was still there, exactly as she had last seen him when she opened them again. She lifted her other arm, the heart rate monitor feeling… foreign. Her arm felt like it weighted fifty pounds all by itself... she made it half way across her body, fingers reaching for him before she had to let it fall.

Cullen looked up at the jostle he felt… she was looking right at him… those hazel eyes of hers were hooded but… they were damn near all blue, as they tended to get whenever she was concerned or worried.. or sad. “Quinn.” Her name left his lips in a rush as he was on his feet in the next heartbeat, up and to her face, nose to nose… he cradled her cheeks, the backs of his fingers brushing down them slow. He glanced down when he felt the back of her hand against his ribs, her fingers catching his vest before she let it fall back down to the bed again. “What… what is it, baby? What do you need…” Cullen felt his chest crack wide open at her answer.

Quinn wanted his arms around her… she wanted to feel… safe… whole. She didn’t want to know anything else other than that. She swallowed against the sticky feeling in the back of her throat and closed her eyes, her face turning away from him as she felt the pull to drift back under again. “… You.” Her voice sounded like she’d gargled with glass for how it rattled out of her.

Cullen bent low and set his brow to her temple and just… let a shaky smile form. “Then me you will have… my Angel.” He pulled back and started situating her… she helped as much as she could… and as he climbed up onto the bed, ignoring everything he was wearing… she was already reaching for him. He leaned against the incline of the hospital bed… pulled her against him, felt her curl up against his side, dragging the blankets with her. He tugged at them and gave her more room to move. The exhausted way she looked up at him had him bend low and set his lips to her hair and just breathe her in… she didn’t smell particularly good, they hadn’t bathed her or anything yet… but he didn’t care. Under the stink of the hospital antiseptic and blood… he could smell _her_. He felt her take hold of his vest, holding onto him. He took a deep breath that lifted her and lowered her back down… stretched out beside her like this… in stark contrast to the pale blue of the sheets and the deplorable print of her soft hospital gown… the paleness of her skin… he looked every bit as dangerous as he was. “And the Maker spoke of his bride… she is the most beautiful of all I have beheld.” He ran his hand down her hair softly, smoothing it back from her face and bent low, wrapping his arms around her again, setting his lips to her crown. “Her eyes… make even the brightest star pale in the night sky so that I may see them shine.” His eyes flicked up to the monitors, letting his gaze slide over her vitals, they were all just fine. “Her skin… is what brings the dawn so that I may touch her through the sun’s light.” He closed his eyes tightly, a wave of indiscernible emotion filling him as he felt her tip her head back, her breath skirting over his throat. “Her hair…” His voice came thicker from those emotions, he cradled her head to him gently, setting his lips to her hairline. “Catches the breezes I send… so that I may watch it dance.” He felt her fingers shifting again… as she drifted in and out of consciousness… his chin shook as he thought about what he’d nearly lost… or if he even had the right to say it was his in the first place. He looked down at her as she angled her face further to look up at him. He ran his fingers down her face reverently, seeing her beautiful eyes staring back at him, lucid and present but so very tired. “For there is nothing in all of creation that pleases me more… then my blessed bride.” She gave him the faintest of smiles and drifted back off. He took a rough breath and then jerked his head up, his Brigade palmed, silencer aimed with deadly accuracy at… Rylen. The man had poked his head inside.


	23. Chapter 23

Rylen raised a dark brow at him. “Easy, Captain. Unless I’m no longer considered a friendly.” He watched Cullen secure his weapon. He was… taken aback in all honesty. Seeing him up on the bed the way he was… he looked like the angel of death. And the woman… she looked so frail beside him, curled up against him the way she was. “We need to move out.” He saw Cullen poised to argue. “Grab your woman, we’re leaving in thirty seconds.” He ducked back out.

Cullen didn’t ask questions, he eased himself out from under her, quickly walked around the other side of the bed and clicked the heart monitor off, unclipped it from her finger and set it aside. He eased the oxygen tube off her face… wrapped her up in the thermal blanket… made sure nothing was hanging out or in the breeze… and picked her up. He cradled her against him, heard her groan of disapproval at being moved. “Hold onto me, baby… we’re getting you out of here.”  He felt her hand take hold of his vest, both of them, her arms being settled in front of her. He tapped the door with the toe of his combat boot and turned out of the way of the door as it opened. He stepped out into the hallway and immediately turned left. Rylen fell in step beside him… their unit in front of and behind him. They passed a stuttering Doctor at the nurses’ station. _E-e-e-excuse me!? Hey! You can’t just—_ he ignored him. They all did. When they stopped at the elevator, the blanket slid off her legs and hung there. Cullen frowned at it but… Rylen pulled it back over her and.. Cullen couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes before the doors opened and Hawke cleared everyone off… and they all got on. Cullen didn’t miss the way they ushered him to the center of the back… as if they were escorting an important dignitary… or… a material witness.

Rylen saw the movement out the corner of his eye… he glanced… and he went quiet inside. He saw… so many cuts on her legs. They had been healed… but… the lines were there… as were silver lines… saying it wasn’t the first time. When he looked back at Cullen, he saw no surprise in his eyes. His eyes flicked down to the woman’s face… she was… pretty in a way that said she didn’t think she was. He didn’t miss the way she was hanging onto Cullen either. They were about three floors down when Hawke pushed the close-door button _again_ when he scoffed. “Just over-ride the damn thing already.” His tenor sounded overly loud in the silent elevator.

Quinn felt… queasy. She was… moving. She’d heard Cullen… did she? They were… leaving? She couldn’t be sure. She opened her eyes slow… blinking… let her gaze move around just as slow before she came awake seemingly all at once, her entire body tensing as she damn near tried to climb up onto Cullen’s shoulders. “What the fuck?!”

Cullen’s shoulders pitched upwards as Quinn tried to simultaneously get up _there_ and get behind him… all while getting tangled in the blanket. “Easy!” He barked at her… she stilled immediately and looked down at him, he rearranged her, weathering the stares of his bia’s. “You’re safe, bab—Quinn.” He started to say baby… cut himself off awkwardly and then said her name at a lower tone. “We have to get you out of the hospital, they called the church.” He saw her pale dangerously. “Easy, now… we scared them off but they will be back.” He watched as she instinctively reached for the brand on the back of her neck. “Can you walk?”

Quinn swallowed the fear that dumped into her. “I… I don’t know.” She felt him ease her down, her slipper socked feet settled beside him and she blinked… then looked up at him. “Um… I can’t tell if you don’t let me put any weight on my own feet.”

Cullen felt heat scald his cheeks and he eased her down further. “Sorry.” He muttered and studied her cautiously, she steadied herself against him, unwilling to step away… he shouldn’t have liked that near as much as he did. She looked up at him, he saw the fear in her eyes… the nervousness. But she gave him a subtle nod. “Quinn… these are my people.” He flicked his eyes up to the men who were obviously trying _not_ to look at him… except Hawke, he openly stared.

Quinn nodded at him again. “I kind of figured that out.” She felt him pull her against him tighter, as if he wasn’t aware he’d done so. She looked around at all the… soldiers that surrounded her, even the one who stared, she perked an auburn brow at him before she returned her attention to Cullen. “You wouldn’t happen to have my things?” She looked up at him hopefully.

Cullen shook his head at her. He… had no idea where her stuff was. He saw a piece of her wilt at the information. He knew that the coat and her pocket book were the only things she had in this world. He saw her nod and felt her shudder against him, saw her lift the blanket up and discreetly wipe at her eyes almost angrily. He took a shallow breath and bent low, setting his lips to her forehead before shifting to send his voice between them, his tenor whispered out to her. “I’m sorry, Angel.”

Rylen shot a look at Carver, who had turned around when he heard _that_. The elevator hit the ground floor and they excited as they usually did… cautiously and then all at once. They walked through the lobby… obviously drawing attention, especially with an obvious patient. More than one nurse, doctor, and orderly called after them. They didn’t even pause. Quite a few vehicle door slams later and the blackouts took off. Rylen glanced over his shoulder to look at Cullen pointedly. “You know the drill.”

Cullen nodded, casting a nervous glance at Quinn. “When do I leave?”

Rylen handed him a black narrow folder looking thing. “Your flight leaves in thirty minutes.”

Quinn’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

Cullen sighed and shifted to look at her more directly. “My cover’s blow, Quinn. I can’t stay here. My apartment’s already been cleared out… I’ve done what I came here to do.” He ignored Hawke’s comment of _in a manner of speaking_.

Quinn’s brows pitched outward for a moment before she nodded and returned her attention to the window and the city that was passing by outside. “So what gutter do I get to look forward to being dumped in?” Her anger made her accent cut the words harshly.

Cullen didn’t silence his sigh this time. “Quinn—“

She held a hand up to him. “Spare me, Cullen. I’m a big girl, I know how this works. I appreciate the spring from the hospital but if it’s all the same to you… just… don’t.”

Cullen felt the tension spike in the suburban. Yeah, yet another thing he fucked up. He’d told her his name. He heard the anger in her voice… and the hurt. She didn’t want him leaving. Hell, he didn’t want to leave. “I didn’t do this to hurt you.” He said low, still trying to reign it back in between them. But she scoffed at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “Now you’re just being childish.” He ground out before he winced, jerking his foot away from her… since she had just slammed her heel down on his toes.

“No, that’s childish.” She glared at him. “Makin’ someone believe that they’re worth somethin’ and then leavin’ ‘em… that’s just fuckin’ cruel.” She reached up and tapped the driver’s shoulder. “I’d like to get out now, if you please.”

Cullen’s jaw clinched at her words. He looked up at Rylen as if the man could offer him… anything. Rylen had faced the windshield again and hadn’t turned back around… and to Cullen’s total shock… the suburban swung up to the curb. “What… what are you doing?” He reached and took hold of her arm as the door actually unlocked.

Quinn looked down at his hand and then into his eyes. “Let go, Cullen.” When he didn’t, even shaking his head slightly, she reached and took hold of his wrist, pinched the nerve and watched as he winced but had no choice. She slipped her arm out and stepped onto the dirty street. “Don’t miss your flight.” The anger was gone from her voice with those words… and she actually gave him a sad sort of smile. She sent her glassy gaze over the other men. “You boys be good now.” She shut the door and turned away, tugging at the blanket and looking around for a moment before she ducked under one of the pipes of the nearby fence… and seemed to just… vanish.

Cullen blinked a few times as the suburban pulled away and headed back down the road. He swallowed against the lump in his throat… the tightness in his chest… and unbuckled… slid over, giving Devlin some room… and threw his shoulder belt on. He felt… numb. He set his elbow on the door frame and his chin on his thumb, the rest of his fist covering his mouth as he tapped his boarding documents slowly on his knee. He didn’t even look at them… he… didn’t care where he was doing. He lifted them up in answer when he heard Hawke’s smooth voice from behind him. _You okay, man?_ That was all he got out of him.


	24. Chapter 24

Rylen watched as Cullen handed off his duffle to the sky cap, the things they had gathered at the apartment. He frowned and sighed, hating this… he really did. But it was just the way it was. “Cullen.” The man looked… god, he looked like he’d been gutted.

Cullen shook his head and turned away. “Just don’t.” He said low… crossed the tarmac and climbed the steps… into the private jet… down the aisle… into the seat. His duffle stowed away, his backpack in the empty seat beside him. He dug around in there until he found his iPod, pulled it out… grateful it still had a charge… pushed the ear buds in… queued up the playlist… mashed the screen and kicked his seat back. He glanced at the little screen above him that read where he was going. London. Which meant he was being sent home. That was no surprise.

Rylen sighed heavily as he watched Cullen go. He’d put in for him to go on leave… he needed some R&R after this job. Whatever had happened between him and that Quinn woman… well… oh there was no getting around it. Cullen had fallen for her hook line and fucking sinker. And she was a feisty one… but he saw the heart wrenching pain in her eyes when Cullen said he was leaving. Heard it when she sent her barbs at him… he wished there was more they could do. But they weren’t fucking make a wish. They were the spec-ops. They were all trained killers, infiltrators, and spies. They didn’t make dreams come true. They all had pasts that ate them up inside… none worse than others, all of them were just different. But he saw it… Cullen had brushed up against something that eased his pain, brought him peace… and this world tore it away from him. He couldn’t stay here… and they couldn’t just send her with him like a little fucking parting gift. They’d be done in Dublin in a few days… and then they too would be gone, moving on to their next assignment. Cullen? He was on leave for the next four months… pending a psych eval, which was standard procedure when coming back from a leave that long and when coming back from _any_ kind of leave for spec-ops. He just hoped Cullen could find a way to deal with his shit before he came back.

Cullen paid the cabbie extra for the late hour… and walked up to his front steps. He’d caught his connection in London with no incidents… though he’d called ahead for a cabbie, since he knew he’d be arriving in Honnleath late. He dug out his house keys… the homestead butted up against the New Forest National Park… for which he was grateful for. His father used to farm this land… now… Cullen leased the fields to the neighbors for growing oats in the winter and hay in the summer. The house itself was one his great grandfather had laid down, on his Mother’s side. The family had moved here from South Reach, which was in the north country, some odd years ago, where his Father’s family was from. The old style stone house was sturdy and Cullen was pretty sure that he’d die long before this place ever even gave up a single inch to erosion. He threw his shoulder into the nineteenth century oak door, which he always had to do when he was away for long periods of time.

He made way into the foyer… using the small flashlight on his key ring, he dug out the emergency candles… stuffed one in the antique candle holder and struck a match, lighting it up. He’d have to call tomorrow and get the electricity turned back on. The only thing he left connected… was the landline. Other than that, nothing. He went back for his duffle and shut the door, locking it tight against the world though it was doubtful anyone would come all the way out here. He was the only Rutherford that even remotely wanted to live in the middle of bum fucked nowhere.

There was only satellite internet this far out and that was dodgy at the best of times… he had a generator for the well and the house but only enough petro on hand to run one, he’d opt for water over lights… but the house was his slice of heaven. Or at least… it used to be. For reasons he couldn’t even begin to understand… it somehow felt… emptier than it ever had. He shook his head at himself and carried the candle down the hall and went into the kitchen, pulled the lantern down from on top of the cabinet and lit it up, grateful there was still oil in it. He held it instead of the candle when he went out to the pump house and kicked the generator on and opened the valves up that would supply running water to the house.  He may not have hot water out of the tap but he’d have fresh water and that was all that really mattered. He went back inside and in less than an hour, he had a fire going in the hearth… a metal bucket with water sitting in the coals heating up… and the old copper tub sitting in the living room waiting for more hot water. It was an old way of doing things… but it brought a sense of peace and calm to him. Or at least… it usually did.

Right now.. he needed that feeling of peace. But it wasn’t coming upon him yet. He just needed more time. He nodded to himself and took his bags upstairs to his room… the master was not overly large but it was comfortable and shared the chimney with the family room. He felt an out of character ache in his chest with the thought. _Family_ room. He set the lantern on his dresser and started unpacking his duffle. He tossed dirty clothes across the room into the corner where he’d gather them up tomorrow… clean clothes he turned around and put away. He was on a roll until his entire world just… fucking locked up on him.

His hand shook as he reached into the bag… and pulled out something that had no fucking business being there. Quinn’s pleather jacket caught the lantern light as he held it up slowly. Suddenly… he couldn’t handle it anymore. It felt like someone threw a fucking harpoon through his chest the way the pain came upon him. He brought it to his face as he bent over, slowly dropping down to his knees and screaming into the material that was saturated with her scent. In that moment, he hated God more than he ever had before.

Why would he put Quinn in his path if he couldn’t have her? Why would he tempt him with this angel only to tear them apart?! He’d been so damned alone and… fucking broken… for so damn long. And she came… and… just… started to put him back together. Without her? He felt everything she’d put back together fall back apart and he broke even more than before. Why would he forever be tempted and tormented with the things he could never have?! He’d had it… he’d had it right there in his arms… it was _real_. His heart broke… shattered right there in his chest as he sagged down and fell against the wall, wept with abandon at the loss... of his love.


	25. Chapter 25

Four month later…

“You’re going to talk him out of this, right?” Hawke stared at Rylen intently.

Rylen sighed, shaking his head as he set his coffee down and looked at Hawke, who had just slid into the other side of the booth at the diner they frequented in London. “I guess you heard.”

Hawke was bouncing his knee as he tried to keep his temper under control. “You do know that the only thing that has kept him alive these past few years is this job and our merry band of fuck ups… right?” He nearly barked out the last word.

Rylen gave him a stern look that would have worked on anyone else, but Hawke had always been rebellious. “Cullen has every right to resign if he wants to. There’s nothing I can do about it.” He chewed down another piece of bacon, speaking around a bite angrily. “Besides, I’ve already tried… he won’t listen to reason.”

Hawke shook his head at him. “You should have put her on the fucking plane with him. You know damn well that’s what all of this is about. That man has never known a kind fucking touch in his whole life and we just tore that away from him, forced him to hurt that woman and made it so he can’t even come back for her. That’s fucked up. You should have fucking done something, you’re his friend, you’ve known him a long fucking time. You know damn well that—“

Rylen interrupted Hawke’s tirade. “You don’t think I know that!” He ignored the sudden stares they were getting. “I’ve tried to find her, I’ve looked fucking everywhere! She’s a god damned ghost.” He ground out, pushing his plate away from him sharply and sitting back with a heavy sigh. Rylen nearly jumped as the table shook and Hawke pulled his hand away from whatever he’d just slammed down.

Hawke was doing well not to fucking deck Rylen. He slammed his fist on the table… and set her phylactery down in the middle of the table between them. “So track her down.” He kept his breathing under control but the golden light was still shining in his eyes.

Rylen stared at it… the swirling dark liquid inside of the ancient vial. “You were supposed to destroy that.” He said quietly before snatching it off the table and tucking it into his coat’s inner pocket.

Hawke shrugged and ate the last piece of bacon off his plate. “Like I ever do what I’m supposed to do.” He stood up and pointed down at Rylen. “You find her… _today_. You know he’s just rattling around that house of his… tearing his own guts out over this. He’s _earned_ his peace.”

Rylen looked up at the uncharacteristically wise words that Hawke said there at the end… and the way he said them. Hell… they were all paying dues of some kind. For Hawke… of all people… to say that? Rylen nodded and threw a few euro extra on top of the bill and left only a moment after Hawke did. He was on the next flight to Dublin.


	26. Chapter 26

Quinn sighed heavily and rubbed at her lower back… it was _killing_ her. Who knew honest work hurt so damned much? She shook her head at herself. _Stop bitching about it_. She picked up the empty bowl and put it in the tub she had perched on her hip. _Miss?_ She nodded absentmindedly. “I’ll be right with you.” _Ya wanka’_. She said in her head. She’d already been on for nine hours… and her feet… and back were screaming at her. But if she wanted any hope of paying this week’s rent… she walked over to the station and set the tub down before putting on that fake smile and returning to the dining room, up to the guy who had taken the table by the door. “What can I get ya?”

Rylen looked up at her from under his ball cap, his shades in place… she looked… good, actually. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. If she didn’t feel the same way… he cleared his throat. “Coffee, two eggs scrambled, some toast, and…” He thought about it before watching her carefully. “Your number, _Angel_.”

Quinn was jotting down the order when the last one came up… her smile vanished, her eyes fluttered for a moment as that single word felt like a barbed whip across her heart. Her lips formed a thin line before she shook her head and tore the slip off the pad of paper. “… _Get bent, asshole_.” She ground out before storming away, blinking away the biting sting of tears that begged to leap forward. She dropped his order in the trash and tapped the other waitress on the shoulder, Lucy, and said she had a table waiting for her. Through the kitchen, out the backdoor… air. It wasn’t fresh air, it was just the alleyway… but at least she could breathe. _Angel_. She looked up and took a deep breath… forcing herself to just… just breathe.

Rylen was actually taken aback by the amount of anger he heard in her voice… but the hurt in her eyes left him with no doubt. She hadn’t recognized him though. That was clear enough. He waved the other waitress off and ducked out of the restaurant, claiming he was running late for a meeting and had changed his mind. He walked around the back of the restaurant, after checking the phylactery unit… and tucking it back into his coat pocket. He saw her standing there… her arms crossed over her chest as she looked like she was trying to hold herself together. Damn… he cleared his throat and her eyes snapped to him, he saw her start to curl her lip. He took his hat and glasses off quickly. “My name’s Rylen. You might not remember me but—“

Quinn’s features hardened but at least the sneer stopped, she sniffled quietly and wiped at her nose, setting her hands on her hips.. her black skirt, deplorable pumps and pink oxford all capped with one of those stupid black pocket aprons all moved in a way that said she had been in them awhile. “I remember you just fine, what do you want.” She said the words short and clipped, again, her accent kicking each word sharply.

Rylen approached her slow but he still saw her take a slight step back. “Here.” He reached in his pocket slow and pulled out a nearly identical black folder looking thing and offered it to her.

Quinn blinked down at it, scoffed for a moment before snatching it out of his hand. “What now? Someone else comin’ to finish what you and yours failed to do?” She nearly spat at him. She flipped it open and saw a one way airline ticket to London with a connection to… _Honnleath_. She swallowed against… too many emotions that filled her up. She saw her passport on the other side of the folder, strapped down. She slapped it shut and held it back out to him. “If he sent you here, you tell that coward that I don’t come when called like a some street bitch.” Even though her voice broke a few times, her chin kicked up defiantly.

Rylen sighed heavily. “Quinn… he doesn’t know I’m here.” He refused to take it back. He held his hand to his chest, his expression open and honest. “We haven’t been able to get through to him since he left… he’s put in for his resignation. Now, I don’t know how well you know him… or what all he told you… but this job… this job’s his—“

“Life.” Quinn finished before he could. She looked down at the ticket folder before shaking her head. “I don’t know what you think I can do. He… he _left_.” She stressed the word and looked up at him before visibly swallowing, her eyes having gone glassy again, damn it.

Rylen frowned slightly. “I know… but believe me, Quinn… he had no choice. He can’t come back to Ireland.”

“Why not?” Quinn shot back, still… angry.

Rylen looked at her before drawing closer. “Are you serious? He killed fifteen people. If anyone saw _anything_ … it’s too dangerous.”

Quinn listed away from Rylen but… the news that Cullen killed… of course he did. That was what he had been sent to do. She let out a shallow breath. “He can’t ever go back to the countries he’s… worked… in?”

Rylen shook his head at her. “Which is why none of our men get assignments in any country they have ties to.” He pointed at the black folder. “Your flight leaves in two hours. Be on it.” He raised his brows to her. “This is only time you’ll be able to pass through customs, Quinn… I can only call this favor in once.”

Quinn nodded and then looked at him strangely at the last. “Why are you doing this?” She couldn’t help her suspicions.

Rylen had already started walking off, his hat and glasses back on. He turned back towards her just slightly. “I owe Cullen my life. It’s time I try to repay that debt.” He stepped away before pausing. “Oh… and…” He reached into his pocket and pulled her phylactery from the apparatus and dropped it on the ground, smashing it with his boot, the vial shattered and became useless. “Be careful.”

Two hours later… Quinn sat nervously on the private jet… she’d never flown before… never mind on a private fucking jet! Every time someone asked her something, she jumped… and was sure she had done something wrong. Everything she owned was in the back pack beside her. It wasn’t much at all. She had fifty euro to her name… but that didn’t mean much, it was still a hell of a lot more than she’d had a few months ago. She had a burner cell… because that was all she could afford… it had five minutes left on it. She had two pairs of jeans, her pumps which she had left at the ratty motel… along with her conservative skirt. Her pink oxford though was in her bag… she had two tee shirts, one thermal… a few pairs of panties, some socks, none of which truly matched… and a hoodie, which she was wearing at the moment. She wore her skirt, the thing went down to just above her knee… she’d splurged and bought some new thigh highs… she wore her boots… another thermal and one necklace. She kept it tucked in her shirt though. She didn’t know why she picked it up… it was stupid… it was… _trendy_ and it had cost her half a week’s pay. It was one of those stamped charm necklace things… it had a tiger’s eye hanging from it… the color reminded her of his eyes. It had a symbol of Andraste… and a charm from St. Patrick’s Cathedral. She’d scratched the date into the back of the charm… the day he’d strutted into her life. It was stupid and pathetic… but… she never took it off. Not even to shower. But not as pathetic as flying to another land mass with no guarantee that she could ever come back… on some dude’s word that Cullen… even remotely wanted her.


	27. Chapter 27

Cullen watched log split down the center and fall off the block, he jerked the axe back out and put another log on the block… repeat. Over… and over… until he had more than enough firewood, since he did this every fucking day. It was always chilly in this part of the country… at least at night. He didn’t mind it… the grey skies overhead matched his mood. He replaced the leather cover on the axe and walked it over to the wood shed, hung it up inside before going back for the firewood. He carried it over to the house, his loose thermal shirt catching on some of the bark… his jeans were old, worn in and a little baggy, but… who cared. He damn sure didn’t anymore. He had tried. He had _tried_ to just… fall back into routine. To… fucking go back to the way he had been before. But it was pretty damn bad when even his withdrawals couldn’t  be bothered with him anymore. They only plagued his dreams… whenever he did sleep. He took the Liriodone out of habit, nothing more. He still hurt all over it seemed, his whole body just… hurt. He brushed some bark off his shirt before tugging his leather work gloves off, pulling his cap off and scratching at his shaggy hair before replacing it.

He’d.. lost track of how long it had been since he even remotely cared about what his hair looked like. The only thing that had changed was the beard, he couldn’t stand looking like an even bigger loser… so he kept his face smooth… well… smooth enough. He was a fan of the _I just shaved three days ago, honest_ look. Thanks to the electric razor and trimmer he had, he could do it too. Three or four swipes across his face and done. Not like he didn’t have all the time in the fucking world to do fuck all nothing with. He went in the back door and tossed his gloves on the kitchen counter, carrying a few logs to set in the wood body by the fireplace. He stood up and brushed his hands off… lifting his cap up off his head a bit and let it just sit there improperly. He stared at the low burning fire… and told himself he wouldn’t _look_. And just like every other fucking time… his eyes flicked up and over to the coat rack by the door. Where he’d hung her jacket up… like she’d be coming down the stairs at any moment to pull it down off the wall… or as if she’d pop in the front door and go _damn, there it is, wonder where the hell it went off to_ and pull it on, kiss him on the cheek… and head out to do whatever errand she needed to do. Yeah… he’d officially lost it. He tore his eyes away with a low curse and thought about tossing it in the fire… but knew he wouldn’t.

It’d stay right where it was… because he was a fucking idiot and apparently a masochist. He felt the ache in the center of chest as he passed by it to go into the den. He sighed and pulled the pliers out of his back pocket and started working on the molding that was trying to come loose around the bank of windows in that room, the sheer curtains that his Mother had made decades ago brushing against his nose as he twisted the u nails back around into their proper places. His eyes flicked down absentmindedly and back up to what he was doing only to snap back to the road. And the black cabbie that had just turned into his driveway. He growled at the sudden anger that filled him up… couldn’t they just leave him the fuck alone.

He turned away and threw the pliers on the desk, swift steps carrying him to the door, he considered getting his rifle just to be an asshole. Hawke had been burning his phone up… and his email… Carver too. Hell, all of them. None of them had taken his resignation notice particularly well. Like it had been easy for him to submit it. But he knew himself… he wasn’t going to get over this in four fucking months… he’d fail that psych eval in a fucking second. No use in drawing out the inevitable. He jerked the door open, already heading out onto the porch, anger snapping in his gilded gaze. “I already told you fuckers…” His tenor died and he felt like… he’d just been hit by a fucking truck for how his breath just left his lungs and he was glued to the spot.

Quinn blinked at him as she stood there in the open door of the cab… she shook her head slightly and leaned in, handed the cabbie the euros. _You sure you want me to leave you out here, Lass?_ His highland accent was odd but… somewhat familiar. She smirked and nodded. “You think this is bad, you should see him in the morning.” She adjusted her back pack strap and shut the door… swallowing nervously as the cabbie pulled away. She reluctantly looked up at Cullen. He looked… just fucking fine. His beard was gone and his hair was a little longer but… well… he looked a little gaunt around the face but… that wasn’t much considering he was probably back on Liriodone. He was just… staring at her. She shifted her weight uncomfortably. “Fuck, Cullen… say _something_.” She pulled her arms around herself, her hood tugging beneath the strap of her pack.

Cullen couldn’t. He couldn’t speak. He had no voice. He had no air in his lungs. He… did he fall and hit his head in the den? Was he in there right now convulsing and seizing to death? Was this a fantasy his brain kicked up to comfort him in his last moments? He… cleared his throat and just… acted like a total moron. “I have your coat.” He blurted out… and turned around, heading back inside. His hand shook as he reached and took it off the hook… he turned around and she was on the porch… the look on her face… he held it out to her.

Quinn had just blinked at him… and then he disappeared into his house. Which was damn nice… old… but… _wow_. She walked up onto the porch and then he was back… he kept staring at her like he didn’t believe she was even there. She couldn’t help but gawk at her jacket… how… but she couldn’t help but look at him with a certain amount of disappointment. He looked… and acted… well a little strange but… he didn’t look like he needed her at all. She saw his hand shake slightly as he continued to hold the coat out to her. She stepped closer and took it… he acted like he didn’t want to let it go… when he did… she thought she saw something painful cross his features but she couldn’t be sure. “Thanks.” She folded it over her arm and held it against her stomach… feeling… so… completely stupid for coming here. “So uh… don’t quit your job, okay.” She nodded before turning around and heading for the steps.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bangs the Smut-gong.

Cullen felt like the last thread that she had used to stitch him up was pulled out when he let go of the jacket. He couldn’t explain it… he blinked at her words and then she… _she’s leaving!_ He felt… frozen… he couldn’t… one step down… two… three… her boot hit the path… his heart started to hammer in his chest. _SAY SOMETHING!_ His heart screamed at him. She was halfway down the path… he opened his mouth, like some weird fish out of water… but nothing would come out of his throat it was so damn tight. She hit the drive… the worn dirt driveway that got so damn muddy when it rained full on. His hands fisted at his sides, he felt panic race around him… his voice strained as he managed to actually speak… but he had no idea if she would hear him. “ _Don’t leave me_.”

Quinn was… numb all over again. What… why had she even come! She held the coat against her tighter with each step she took… tears gathering on her lower lashes as she fought to just… just don’t fall apart right here. She blinked suddenly as she heard those strained words… tears forced down her cheeks… she looked over her shoulder at him. His chest was heaving as he struggled… it looked like his body wasn’t… listening to him. His eyes were full of so much… longing and… pain… his brows were shifted outwards and… his nostrils kept flaring with each ragged breath he took.

Cullen saw the tears in her eyes… that… more than anything else seemed to get his ass in gear. He all but leapt off the porch and jumped over the borders of his gardens… he damn near tackled her, he had his arms around her, had her weight in them… his face buried in the crook of her neck, felt her legs suddenly wrap around his waist. A strangled cry came out of him as he fought the sound… he felt her arms around him, holding him tight. “Please be real.” He breathed roughly.

Quinn actually squeaked when he practically tackled her. He was, after all, pretty damn big. But the next moment she was wrapped up in all that strength and safety. Her chest started to pitch inward rapidly as she wept further at his rough words. “Shh…” She tried to soothe him… her hand gripping the back of his neck. “I’m here.” He started moving them, he walked back to his house… didn’t miss so much as a single step… inside… he kicked the door shut and pulled away to look at her intently.

Cullen stepped back into the door… set his heel to the floor lock… and pushed it down, reached overhead and pushed the bar at the top up… locking the world out. And if he were to be honest… locking them in. He was unashamed of the tears in his eyes… he… he had missed her so damned much. He didn’t care how she got here… not right now. Her eyes were all blue for him… he pulled at the straps of her backpack, suddenly impatient… he heard it hit the floor… she pulled his cap off. He stepped over all of it… the next moment, her hand braced his jaw… the other in his hair… gripping a full handful… her lips on his… and the stairs beneath his boots as he climbed upwards. His entire body screamed as it roared to life… as if he’d been dead this entire time. He rounded the banister on the landing… down the hall… he backed them into his room… turned and crossed the worn area rug, pivoting on her lips… his tongue dancing with hers as he groaned openly. His hands traveling down… holding onto her intimately… he put a knee onto the unmade bed… and almost fell over her… he caught them at the last moment… and sank down onto her instead.

Quinn was blind… she was sure of it. And breathless too. Cullen kissed like… damn. She didn’t want to let go of him… she wanted him.. all of him. She heard his belt jingling… felt his hands up her skirt… his lips tore from hers, he kissed a hungry trail to her neck, nibbling as he went… he was… desperate. She wasn’t any better… she set her boots behind his thighs and pulled at him… her hands touching him everywhere she could reach.

Cullen crowded her… grew frustrated with his comforter, stuffed it under his knee roughly… tugged her towards him by her hips... jerked his pants down, his boxers next… he was so damn hard already. He reached for her, she moaned so beautiful… he tucked a finger beneath the strap of her underwear… but she wasn’t ready for him so soon. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Angel… I need inside you now…” He lifted a hand to his mouth, drew out some of his saliva and used it to supplement her. His breath was sawing in and out of him as he rocked his brow up on the mattress beside her, his cheek sliding against hers as he set himself, using both hands to ensure her underwear were out of the way. His mouth fell open when he felt her against him… “Oh god… Quinn…” He breathed her name before he drove into her sharply… filling her all at once. His hands grabbed at her desperately, getting tangled in her skirt until he gripped her thighs.. and finally hips… her beautiful voice filled the air, her nails biting at him through his thermal. He reached with his other hand for the side edge of his mattress, slapping at it blindly until he caught it. He covered her lips desperately… and started moving. His pace was hasty… needy… blind with lust… he wanted all of her, needed her… when he broke the kiss, he was shaking all over, filling her over and over as she screamed for him. He wasn’t gentle… but he didn’t hurt her… his tenor left him each time his skin hit hers… he looked down at her intently…. He felt the tingle racing up his spine from the lyrium but… it wasn’t near as much as it once was… he didn’t even notice that though. He didn’t care. All he cared about was the way her body was starting to go so damn tight around him, the way she was squirming beneath him, the way she was holding onto him. He couldn’t even speak… he bit at his lower lip, his mouth falling open when she came undone. He started to pull away… his grip slipping off the edge of the mattress… he felt the heels of her boots dig in against the back of his thighs… he shook his head sharply and drove himself in deep, slapping his hold back on the edge, his other hand pinning her hip down beneath him. Her body rolling over him in waves of her own rhythm was his undoing… her name fell from his lips the second before he spilled, he groaned so loud, his back bowing as his knees and boots dug into his bed, desperate to be as deep within her as humanly possible. He kissed her sinfully… jerking all over when he gave another wave of himself. He ran his hands down her body… holding her hips gently… his kiss turned… softer… tender… he pulled away… looking down at her with all the seriousness he felt inside of him, which was a hell of a lot. He ran a hand down her cheek… still in marginal disbelief she was even really here. “I love you.” His expression trembled as he searched her eyes.

Quinn was still settling back down in her own skin… he was so… alpha male when he found his peak… so… magnificent. Then… he became… loving. And… told her as such. She stared back at him… her heart flipping in her chest. She set her hand to his cheek, fighting a smile at how he leaned into it. She saw no lie in his eyes… but… “I love you too, Cullen… and that scares the shit out of me.” She whispered the last, her expression turning fearful for a moment.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megaphone: More smut incoming!

Cullen nodded, turned and kissed her palm, keeping his eyes on her. “I know.” He breathed against her skin. “I’m still terrified that you aren’t really here.” He withdrew from her slow, wincing at the discomfort before he tucked himself away and sat down on the bed, his hand running up her leg… thigh… and then her arm for she’d sat up with him. “Hell, Quinn…” He took her hand in his and frowned, shaking his head. “I am so… fucking sorry.” He gave her a look that held all his regret. “I…” He shrugged. “I have no excuse… or reason. I just… did what I always do. The job was done and I left.” He saw the pain flash in her eyes. He scooted closer to her. “But for the first time… I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay… I wanted to go back to that shitty little apartment and just climb in that bed with you… and not come back out for however long I could get away with.” He brushed some of her hair away from her face. “I can say I didn’t because I was in a bad spot… all fucked up because of you dying but—“

Quinn blinked at him. “Me whating?”

Cullen’s spine straightened slightly. “You… they didn’t tell you?”

“They who? Y’all snatched me from the hospital, remember?” Quinn looked at him sternly, and didn’t like the way he looked away from her. “Cullen, tell me what happened.”

Cullen looked at her and shook his head slightly. “You died on the dock.” He felt that fear grip him so much he had to lace his fingers with hers. “I… tried to bring you back… it… I don’t know… I just…” He rubbed at his face. “I just did CPR until the med team got there… and then they just took you. I…” He held a hand up and let it fall back to his thigh. “They shocked you right there… they brought you back.” He frowned at her again. “You were out for hours… I don’t know what all they did to you at the hospital but… seeing that… knowing it was my fault…” He bowed his head and frowned even more.

Quinn wasn’t sure how to feel about that… she had died? Or at least gotten really fucking close to it. The last though, she looked at him sharply. “Hey.” She took hold of his chin so he’d be forced to look at her, ducking to meet his eye quicker. “Don’t carry this. That wasn’t your fault. I knew what I was doing when I cast that spell.”

Cullen shook his head at her. “If I hadn’t of sent you away…”

Quinn shook her head back at him. “Who knows what might have happened.” She sighed. “As it stands… I’m barely a mage anymore…” She shrugged at him. “The spell took almost all of the lyrium from me…”

Cullen winced at that… for a mage to spend all the lyrium in their veins… well… if it had taken it _all_ she truly would have died… and no amount of paddles or chest compressions would have brought her back. “You’re alive, that’s all that matters.”

Quinn shook her head at him again. “I’m here with you. _That_ ’s all that matters.”

Cullen looked at her quietly for a moment before he reached and pulled her against him, covered her lips for another kiss. He… he couldn’t believe she was here. He started working her hoodie off of her… heard her stifle a laugh. He pulled away. “What?”

Quinn shook her head and took it off, setting it aside. “I know you missed me… but, already?”

Cullen smirked and leaned towards her, cupping her cheek and rubbing his nose against hers in a move he would have never thought he’d do in a million years. “I’m always ready to fill you, Angel.” He watched her cheeks flush for him… and that was… okay that was hot. He reached and started working her boots off with an almost eager grin tugging at him.

Their boots… his jeans… her stockings… skirt… thermals… her hoodie… and her bra littered the room, thrown haphazardly wherever they may land. Cullen pulled the covers over them with a a grand flip, smirking as she smiled up at him. He’d never get tired of that smile… he may have been too cocky with his words, no pun intended. Or was there a pun? His body did need a minute or two to get back on board… but he… he wanted to touch her all over. So he did. He kissed her softly… tenderly exploring her mouth, committing every angle to memory. His hands held her wrists loosely up by her shoulders, his thumbs stroking her skin softly. The landline went off downstairs… he vehemently ignored it. _Shouldn’t you—_ “Nope.” He murmured against her neck… having moved downward. She gave him a quiet laugh that was interrupted with a hiss as he started marking the delicate skin right there on the side of her neck… he wanted everyone to see the mark he was giving her. To know that he’d put it there… to know he’d touched her intimately. That she was his. By the time he was done… she was panting again… he smiled against her skin… moving downward still… his body coiling further between her legs, her thighs brushing against his sides. He felt his heart pounding out an uneven rhythm by the time he reached her breasts. They were perfect for her build… and he would never tire of them. He ran his tongue around her nipple teasingly, hearing her hiss and feeling her jerk beneath him. He drew it in for a healthy suckle before the landline went off again. _Maybe it’s important…_ He let it fall from his mouth and breathed over the wet skin tantalizingly as he spoke. “Nothing is more important right now.”

Downstairs the answering machine picked up _again_. Rylen’s voice came over the line. “Damn it, Cullen, I know you’re there. Answer your damn phone! You’ve got less than two hours to get your shit together.” The line went dead.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rings Bells Like Crazy: Smut! More Smut! Three chapters in a row, wow! ;O

Cullen flicked her nipple rapidly with his tongue, feeling her twist beneath him… she cried out as she strained against his hold, he wasn’t willing to give her free reign with her hands yet. He fought his own groan, his cock tensing as it started to grow again. He moved to her other breast… _Cullen, have mercy._ He smirked. “I missed you too much.” He began his slow assault on her there… he felt her legs sliding up and down him… it was oddly erotic. He drew up a knee… felt her brace her foot on it… twisting further beneath him… he groaned low in his throat as his cock hardened, trapped between him and the mattress. He felt the crisp hairs of her against his stomach… felt the heat coming off of her. He left her chest and started kissing a lazy trail downward… he dipped his tongue in her navel, made her jerk at the unexpected sensation. He smirked as she looked down at him… he held her gaze as he finally let go of her wrists. He didn’t take his eyes off of hers as he slid down her body… his hands running down her thighs… to the inside of them, pushing her legs wider apart… he bent further, his thumbs up to her part… spreading her there… he saw her flush heavily… saw the passion darken her eyes… he ran his tongue along her in one long stroke.

She moaned long for him, her eyes closing as she slowly pitched her chin upwards… her hands diving into his hair… his cock wept at the taste of her. He had to close his own eyes… “God damn…” He breathed… he looked at her… her auburn curls teasing in their proximity. He looked up at her face again before he set his mouth to her heat… she cried out as he started kissing her there. He watched her intently as he worked her body… he couldn’t help but groan, his tenor vibrating her… her fingers ran over his scalp causing chills to break out down his back. He ran his hands around her legs, holding onto her hips… he suckled on her tight bundle of nerves… she cried out loudly for him… he groaned again… his groin tightening. He kept at it for… he wasn’t even sure how long.

Each time she’d draw close… he’d back away from her there and dip down to toy with her opening. She was panting, clawing at him as she pleaded for relief. _Please, Cullen…_ he looked up at her, his mouth hanging open as his breath sawed… he slid his hand between her legs… and slipped a finger into her, her body immediately gripped at him, desperate for something to hang onto. She pressed against him, rolling her hips, unabashed in her desire for release. His eyes nearly rolled from that… his hips tensed, his cock throbbing from her actions. “God, Quinn…” He started fingering her slow… his tongue toying with her clit just as slow, every now and again, he’d flick it rapidly. He felt her getting so wet that it was driving him insane, he was sure of it. She was moaning so much, getting so damn loud for him. He slid a second finger into her… the moment he did, she came undone. He groaned deep, curled his fingers and shook his hand, forcing more pleasure from her body as she screamed for him.

His chest was tight, his entire body tense… he wanted inside her so bad. He eased his fingers out of her and kissed a trail up her body, shadowed her lips as he took hold of her hips and started to slowly roll her over… “Quinn…” He breathed as his lips barely brushed over hers. She rolled over for him… he felt lustful anticipation fill him up. “I’ve never… taken anyone this way.” He breathed as he straddled her thighs. She smiled for him… he felt her hands on his thighs… he lifted her hips… spread her with one hand and guided himself with his other… he found her opening and his breath left him… his hand slammed against the mattress to brace his weight.

He rolled his hips and slid into her so damn easily… but she was… “God… you’re so tight…” He gasped… his entire spine rippling with the most intense pleasure he’d ever felt. She felt… completely different this way. He felt her thighs tighten, he groaned far too loudly… as he was prone to do. He set his other hand on the mattress, felt her hand take hold of that one… and the next moment their fingers were laced there… he bent low and shadowed her lips as he withdrew only a little… he wasn’t sure… how far he could.. he thrust back into her and they both erupted in a moan. Sweat bloomed out of him… his eyes flared as his powers surged. “Oh god… Quinn…” He withdrew a little more each time… he figured out quickly how far he could go before he lost the angle he needed.

Within minutes, he was pounding into her in a way that a part of him was appalled at. But he couldn’t stop… and she was screaming for him to keep going. The comforter had slid down and pooled around his waist, his shoulders pitched as his back bowed with each thrust. He was delirious… “Fuck yes…” He threw his head back, he had never felt… anything so damn good in his entire life. She came undone around him, everything going even more slick, even tighter… she pulsed rapidly, her body throbbing around him as he moved. “I’m so fucking close…” His hips snapped forward, the sound of him filling her, in turn, filled the air.

He reached for her chin, suddenly pitching her face towards him as he shadowed her lips again… something he was steadily loving to do. “I’m gonna come inside you… my sweet Angel…” He gave the last few inches sharp, heard her yelp but she moaned a second later… he felt the start of her womb nudging against him… “God right there… right fucking there…” He couldn’t stop himself… he didn’t want to… the other times… it’d been… self professed accidents or… mishaps… but this… he was doing it fully on purpose.

His thrusts grew rapid, hasty… his headboard knocked on the wall soundly… she screamed his name as she doused him again… he drove in as deep as he could, one hand taking hold of her hip and lifting her up to meet him as he threw his head back and damn near screamed himself. He came hard… filling her in a rhythm that was augmented by her own… her body pulled every last bit of him from him… leaving him gasping and weak… trembling as he slid off of her and near collapsed beside her, one arm thrown over him as he tried to catch his breath.

Quinn rolled onto her side and brushed her hair back from her face as she took a deep breath, likewise… just trying to get enough air. He was covered in sweat… his muscles still all tense… but his face… all those fine lines were smoothed out… he looked like… well… like a man who’d just gotten laid. She couldn’t resist. “Feel better?”

Cullen barked out a laugh… he nodded, a hand waving lazily before he let it fall back down on his chest. “Much.”

Quinn openly stared… she’d never heard him laugh in earnest before… she’d heard a fake laugh a time or two but that one was real. It was dorky as hell and didn’t match him _at all_ … but it was _real_. And he had a slight hint of a dimple when he truly smiled. She rolled away from him and slid out of bed, only for her wrist to be ensnared. She looked over her shoulder at him and the… sudden worry? “I’m just going to the bathroom.” She said with a playful narrowing of her eyes.

Cullen nodded. “Okay, it’s right through there.” He pointed to the door that was slightly ajar opposite the bed. He… he just didn’t want her leaving his sight… he… couldn’t bare it for very long. He watched her go and bit his lower lip at the view… he startled violently when he heard a loud banging on his front door. “What the fuck…” _What the hell?!_ “I got it… stay here until I come get you.” He was already up and pulling his jeans up, he zipped them and buttoned them but left the belt undone… he snatched his Brigade out of the nightstand drawer before he went downstairs, flowing down them like he was some damn princess, not but his legs moving, he had the gun at the ready. _The bad guys generally don’t knock._ Yeah, yeah… but with her here now, he wasn’t taking _any_ chances.

He leaned to the side of the door and looked out the narrow window before he nearly groaned and not in the good way. He jerked the door open and leveled the gun at Rylen… Hawke… and Carver. “What the fuck are you doing here?”


	31. Chapter 31

Rylen blinked as he looked down the silencer barrel of Cullen’s particular brand of weaponry. But that wasn’t what was… jarring. It was his disheveled appearance. He slapped the gun away. “I’m here because you don’t have a brain in your fucking skull.” He charged past him into the house, not giving him a chance to slam the door on him, like he was sure he wanted to.

Hawke… however… reached for Rylen but narrowly missed him. He… saw Cullen’s appearance for what it was, having worn it a time or two… or twenty hundred in his lifetime. Cullen’s belt was hanging undone… no socks or shoes, no shirt… his muscles all still defined… a pronounced flush still working on dissipating over his chest… his hair a mess… at… three in the afternoon. Even if Cullen had slid down into a pit of despair so deep he couldn’t see the sun… Cullen would never be in bed at this time of day. He hissed after Rylen but dutifully followed, Carver bringing up the rear.

Cullen glared at Rylen before he just… left the door open, they were _so_ not staying. “What the fuck are you talking about?” He folded his arms… the gun still in his hand and at the ready.

Rylen rounded on him. “I check in with the cabbie I hired to deliver Quinn right to your fucking front door and he says you weren’t happy to see her? That you actually yelled at her? What the actual fuck, Cullen!” He threw a hand up. “I go all the way to Dublin, track her down, put her ass on a fucking plane, send her here… and that’s how you act when she gets here, you really are fucking sick, you know that?” Rylen jabbed a finger at him. “That’s it, I swear, that is the last fucking thing I ever do for you.”

Hawke was trying to make the _abort, abort_ motion with his hand to Rylen but the man was in on one of his famous tirades… Carver… just fucking sat down on the couch and sagged against the cushions, he was exhausted. Hawke pinched at the bridge of his nose. Cullen… however… didn’t think this was funny or entertaining. He just aimed his gun at Rylen again. “ _You_ tracked her down?” He pulled the hammer back, safety off. “You pulled her out of her fucking life and sent her here? Did you even fucking ask if she wanted to come?!” He barked at him… furious that Rylen tracked her down… so easily. Which mean, he had a phylactery.

“Cullen!” All… the men froze at the sound of Quinn’s voice.

Cullen immediately disarmed the gun and actually threw it at Carver, as if he was the one holding it the whole time. “Yeah?” He turned around nervously, feigning innocence to see Quinn coming down the stairs in one of his shirts… and a pair of jeans that had to be hers. Her bare feet padding over the near ancient wood floors.

Carver caught the gun out of sheer instinct and muscle memory… he gawked at Cullen and immediately stuffed it down into the couch cushion… stunned stupid by what he’d just witnessed Cullen do! Rylen openly stared… while Hawke threw his hands up and muttered about Rylen being a fuckin’ moron… and Hawke just walked off, went down the hall and into the kitchen.

Quinn blinked as she saw… Rylen standing there. “Rylen.” She kicked her chin up and folded her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at him. “What are you doing here?”

Rylen flicked his eyes between them… took in Cullen’s general state of undress and… felt like a tool. “Apparently interrupting afternoon playtime.”

Carver barked out a laugh that was joined by one down the hall… Cullen however, didn’t think it was funny. Cullen pointed at Rylen and then the door. “Get out.”

Rylen rolled his eyes. “Relax. I just… I thought you’d finally gone off the rez.” He sighed heavily, his hands on his hips. “You’re enough to give me a damn ulcer, Cullen.”

Cullen folded his arms over his chest. “Good thing we don’t work together anymore.”

Carver suddenly grew quiet… and got up and left the room, brushing past Cullen coldly and aimed for the kitchen. Quinn stepped out of his way… and then looked between Rylen and Cullen. She looked at Cullen and the way he had his jaw set… at Rylen who wanted to argue. She sighed and went and fell down on the couch only to yelp sharply. “What the..” She pulled the Brigade out of the couch cushion and held it up by the stock… giving Cullen a raised brow before shaking her head. “I don’t want to know.” She put it on the coffee table and leaned back against the cushions.

Cullen went around Rylen, admittedly much more relaxed and picked the gun up, lifting the lid of the coffee table and tucking it inside. For reasons he had no idea about… seeing Quinn next to that gun… didn’t sit well with him. He straightened and looked back at Rylen pointedly. “Rylen… I am sorry. But I just can’t do it anymore. Especially now.”

Rylen sighed and moved into the living room, falling down into the arm chair. “I know.” He frowned and shook his head. “The boys are all in a hissy about it though.” Hawke’s voice chimed in. _I heard that!_ “Good!” Rylen snapped back. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Things are about to get really dicey and… I just… I wish I had you at my back when we head back out.”

Cullen frowned, sitting down next to Quinn, he openly pulled her in beside him and started toying with a piece of her hair, absentmindedly coiling it around his finger and letting it slide free only to repeat the process. “You’re going out?”

Rylen nodded. “It’s all hands on deck.”

Cullen’s features shifted but he didn’t sway in his conviction. “I may know someone who _might_ sign up. He’s a good man. Never served a day in his life though… so… basically… he’s Hawke two point oh.”

Rylen groaned and scrubbed at his face. “Because that’s just what I need.” _I heard that too!_ “Good!” Rylen said again, a little more stressed this time. Rylen looked at Cullen pointedly. “Do you trust him?”

Cullen nodded immediately. “He’s rough around the edges but he gets the job done… and his moral compass always points north.”

Rylen nodded. “Okay… shoot me his dossier and I’ll check him out.” _I knew it!_ Hawke’s voice echoed down the hall. “Will you shut the fuck up!” Rylen snapped. “One day…” He held up a fist mockingly.

Quinn couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at them… they really were like children. Well… Hawke _was_ like a child. She sat there and listened as Rylen and Cullen continued to talk... and Cullen continued to toy with her hair. A lot of what they were talking about went right over her head and she was fine with that… a lot of what they were talking about sounded… terrifying. It wasn’t anything she couldn’t hear on the news… but the way they talked about it as if it were just… _normal_ … because it _was_ … that was the thing that was… scary. She looked up as Hawke and Carver came back into the great room… Hawke had a plate of food that he’d managed to scrounge up. Quinn glanced up at the smell of sausages… her stomach lurched violently, she clapped a hand over her mouth, paling dangerously as she darted from the room and dashed up the stairs, nearly tripping… she headed for the only bathroom she knew of.

Cullen stood up suddenly, his brow creased as she ran. “Quinn!” He took a few steps but he felt a hand on his shoulder, he looked at… Hawke… sharply.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so that happened.   
> And... enter Fenris, who has issues too, but ya can't blame him.

Hawke had set his plate down, his eyes following the woman… he pulled at Cullen as he stepped past. “I got it.” He trotted up the stairs with a bit of a bounce in his step, rounded the banister… he knew this house like the back of his hand. He heard the sounds of her retching before he even hit the bedroom door. His dark brows perked as he stepped over the clothing that was strewn about. “Afternoon playtime, indeed…” He stepped into the doorway of the bathroom… the room was small, the bathtub was copper, old… stone and rich woods made up the bulk of the décor. Quinn was hugging the toilet as she groaned and slid down to the floor. Hawke stepped in and leaned against the counter… he looked at her intently, his eyes glowing that telling amber before he smirked and turned, filled the bathroom cup up with water and offered it to her. “It’ll pass.”

Cullen watched Hawke follow… and it was only because it was Hawke that he allowed it. He frowned and took a deep breath before he looked at Rylen firmly. “Where’d you find her.” He hadn’t seen any marks on her body when he made love to her… but… that didn’t mean she’d been having a decent time these past few months. Rylen explained what all he’d seen and experienced when he tracked her down in Dublin.

Quinn took the water and rinsed her mouth out before leaning back against the wall with a groan. “Knowing my luck, I picked up a bug on the fucking plane.”

Hawke chuckled low and folded his arms over his chest, shaking his head. His flannel shirt stretching with the action, he crossed his ankles as he shifted to the side, his brows rising with his expression. “No… no stomach bug.”

Quinn gave him a narrowed look… and saw the steady glow in his pupils. “You’re a mage?” It just popped right out of her mouth.

Hawke gave her a subtle dip of his chin. “ _Mmhm_.” He shoved off and squatted in front of her, one forearm rested on his knee while he made a beckoning motion between them, his eyes shining brighter while the gentle spell went out. The swirling gold light spilled from his hand and went out, diving into her abdomen as she gasped and pressed herself against the wall. “She’s strong.” He looked up at her pointedly. “Be gentle when you tell Cullen… he’ll think himself undeserving.”

Quinn stared at Hawke… she just… stared. There was… no… no way.  Her lips formed a thin line as she took a deep breath. Her first thought.. “Did it hurt her… what… what happened to me?” Her voice shook as she covered her abdomen… she had just assumed that along with her lack of magic… lack of power… what had happened to her had taken other things as well.

Hawke smirked good naturedly at her and shook his head, pulling back the spell. “She’s just fine, Quinn.” He started to stand back up, suddenly _Don’t Stop Believing_ by Journey pierced the near silence… Hawke pulled his phone off his belt and put it to his ear. “Hey babe… oh you love it. Na… I’m at Cullen’s.” He glanced down at Quinn with a devastating grin.

Quinn tilted her head at him and… _babe_? She stood up and flushed the toilet, closing the seat before she started washing her hands. She heard him take his conversation into the bedroom. _No I didn’t wash my hands… because I wasn’t the one pissin’... Fenris… don’t… no… it’s not… I’m not… don’t do this._ She dried her hands off and walked out to see Hawke pacing in front of the foot of the bed, his boots stepping on their clothes without thought not to. His expression was exasperated…

Hawke drug his hand through his messy hair. “Babe, I swear… I didn’t… it’s not… you know Cullen’s straight as a fucking arrow… I was helping his woman with something.” He groaned and ran his hand down his face. “Babe, don’t say that. I swear! He has a girlfriend. I’m not… believe me, please.” He put his back to the wall and slid down to crouch there, hanging his head with a  groan. “Don’t… Fenris… please… I love you.” He spoke low into the phone, his expression hanging just as his head did. “I’ll… I’m coming home now… no, you don’t believe me… so I’m on my way.” He pulled the phone away and pushed the red circle before leaning his head back against the wall. He looked at Quinn with a humorless smirk. “Men.”

Quinn listened with a certain amount of disbelief… Hawke was taller than Cullen… and though he was a bit leaner, he was just as built. And… here he was letting… _Fenris_ talk to him like… well, it obviously wasn’t nice. She raised her brows slowly as she heard the one sided conversation as Hawke tried to placate his… and there it is… his boyfriend. She’d never peg him for being homosexual. She frowned and sat on the foot of the bed. “Are you… are you okay?” He didn’t look it.

Hawke softened his expression and gave her a real smirk. “Yeah. He’s… Fenris… he had it rough. He’s… insecure to a level that makes him crazy sometimes.” He stood up with a heavy sigh, tucking his phone away. “He’s worth it though.” He gestured to the door. “You’d better come on… before Cullen thinks I’m up here turning you against him or something.”

Quinn smirked and stood up before she paused and looked at Hawke carefully. “Cullen’s not like that is he?”

Hawke looked back at her, having already headed out onto the landing. He gave her a shrug. “Haven’t the foggiest… I’ve known him for ten years and I’ve never seen him with a woman.” He was halfway down the stairs when his phone went off, vibrating in his pocket. He sighed and pulled it out… frowned at the picture before swiping it open. “I’m almost at the door now.”

 _Don’t come home, Hawke._ “No, you don’t trust me.” Hawke went down the rest of the stairs, aiming for the door. He heard Fenris sigh into the phone… he could see him sitting there, hanging his head. _I do trust you. I just… does Cullen really have a woman?_ “Yeah, funny ol’ world, isn’t it?” He pulled on the handle and stepped out onto the porch. _Are you outside?_ “I told you, I’m coming home.” _Hawke…_ “Fenris…” _… I’m sorry._ “I know.” Hawke paused and sat down on the steps instead. “You know I love you more than anything… I’d never hurt you like that.” _I know._ “I get that you think all of this is… somehow going to be taken away but… you have got to give me some fucking slack, man.” _I know. I just…_ he sighed again. _One day you’re going to give up on me._ “Keep talking like that and I might.” Hawke knew he’d never do such a thing. “I mean, have you heard yourself lately? What has gotten into you?” _I don’t know._ “You gotta start talkin’ to me.” _I know I do. I just… every time I think I’m ready… you have to leave again._ Hawke groaned loudly and let his head fall back. “Don’t start with that.” _It’s true._ “No… no it’s not. I’m home for months sometimes… and you will go days without hardly speaking to me at all.” _… Just don’t come home._ The line went dead. He sighed again before standing up and heading back inside. “Hey..” He made way back into the living room… seeing Quinn back on the couch beside Cullen. “I gotta run.”

Cullen looked up at Hawke with a questioning gaze for a moment before he saw the man rub at the back of his neck. He nodded. “See ya.” Everyone else gave likewise farewells… except Carver, he just scoffed and ignored him.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning... Cullen... is a fucking moron.

By the time Rylen and Carver finally left, Cullen’d had his fill of visitors for the day. He went back upstairs to get a shirt when he realized the clothes… he smirked to himself, hearing dishes clinking… hearing the sound echoing through the house… he just… he felt… he couldn’t pin point the exact feeling but it made him never want to let her go again. He dumped all the clothes in the hamper and brushed his hands against each other before pulling on a simple tee shirt, remembering that she was wearing one of his. He felt a tremble slither down his spine… seeing her in his clothes had thus far done strange things to him. He pulled some socks on and headed back downstairs… paused… seeing her jacket hanging back up on the peg by the door. He couldn’t help the ragged breath it pulled from him… he shook his head and put a few more logs onto the fire before heading into the kitchen.

Quinn hadn’t figured out how in the _hell_ she was going to tell Cullen. Hell, he lost his shit when he figured out that he wanted _her_. This? She put another dish in the drain board… Carver had eaten Hawke’s meal… and eventually they had made some more food. She had picked at her meal, telling Cullen that her stomach was still a little uneasy. She saw the concern in his eyes, the worry… but she brushed him off. She had learned during dinner though that Hawke only lived an hour away. Carver lived in Liverpool… Rylen however, he lived in Scotland. As soon as she found that out, it finally clicked… his accent made sense. It had been bugging her. She was… terrified to be honest. So much had changed in such a short amount of time. Just this morning she was waking up in that shithole motel… getting ready to head to her crap job that paid next to nothing… feeling sick about her life and missing Cullen more than she should. Now she’s here? And… dealing with something that most people _planned_ for or at least were somewhat prepared for. Hell, Cullen and her had spent more time apart than together.

Cullen leaned in the doorway and watched… just watched her. It had been… decades since there had been a woman in this house. Not since his Mother had passed away. It had sat vacant until he’d left the Order. He watched Quinn sway from the sink to the drain board… her hair shifting on her back as she moved. She stole his breath, a fierce wave of desire tore through him as he let his eyes flow down her body. His shirt was almost comically big on her… it hid most of her body but some had gotten hung up on the narrow shelf of her hip… so he was gifted with one profile of her legs. He couldn’t help but run the side of his index finger over his lower lip as he thought of earlier… and what he wanted to do to her now. She looked so different yet… the same. All the way down to her jewelry… oh he’d seen the necklace, had shifted it gently out of his way… and he didn’t miss the date carved in the back of the charm either. The fact that she wore it, that she had it at all… he felt love swell in his chest at the memory. He shoved off and walked across the stone floor… the stone having been worn down to its smooth state from generations of his kinsmen. He reached… fingers touching her hips first… palms next… hands sliding around her as he came up behind her, his hold going around her abdomen as he swayed with her. He _hmm_ ed contently, setting his lips to her crown, just there at the top of her head but on the backside.

Quinn stiffened for a brief moment at the first contact, then she relaxed and let the soft smile pull at her while she rinsed another dish. The way he held her though, she nearly dropped the plate before she set it down into the drain board. She could feel her heart starting to pound in her chest… she licked her lips and just… well, she never was very good at keeping secrets like this from the people who had the right to know. “… I’m pregnant.”

Cullen had closed his eyes… they popped open and he came to a standstill. He blinked rapidly a few times before pulling away from her. “You’re what?”

Quinn took in a deep breath and grabbed the kitchen towel, drying her hands as she turned around. “You heard me.” She looked at him carefully. He was so still… it was impossible to judge how he was taking it.

Cullen took a few steps away from her before he likewise took a deep breath… his heart was fluttering in his chest like a damn bird in a cage. He felt… sheer and complete… panic filling him up. He turned on her suddenly. “Why are you telling me this?”

Quinn watched him… and then… she started to narrow her eyes at him, setting the towel down slowly. _Oh… he is not… even going there._ “Uh… because she’s yours.”

Cullen’s spine straightened as his brows went low. “The hell it is.” He gestured to her sharply with the words as he took another step back.

Quinn had no idea why those four words hurt her as much as they did… but it was like they ripped her heart open or something for the sudden jarring pain they brought. She swallowed against the tightness in her throat and forced her features to remain still though they were starting to shake, she kept her eyes on him firmly. “Cullen… you better be really fucking careful right now.” She warned… which told her exactly how much he meant to her… she’d never warned anyone before. She’d always just blown up at them and let the cards land wherever they may.

Cullen’s breath was straining as his jaw tensed. He heard the thickness in her voice, saw the hurt in her eyes… and knew, somewhere inside him, that he was being… the biggest… son of a bitch on the planet right now. “Come on, Quinn… you expect me to believe that for four months there wasn’t anyone else or… that it’s not Al-Razier’s?!” He barked at her, throwing a hand out. “I have no proof that it’s mine and I’m not going to just take your fucking word for it.” He cut his hand through the air, shaking his head. “I won’t do that.”

Quinn openly stared at him, damn near gawked at him. She knew fear did a lot of things to a man and very few of them were good. But… this was… going a little too far. She knew… that he had… a point about the four months thing but Al-Razier?! All of it still tore her heart out. “And if I find you proof?”

“Get rid of it.” Cullen said back without missing a beat, his gaze cold and firm. His expression flickered… as if even he couldn’t believe he had just said that.

Tears immediately welled on Quinn’s lower lashes, she closed the gap between them and sent her palm across his face sharply. Sneering at him before she brushed past him… and up the stairs.

Cullen’s head snapped to the side with the stinging slap… he was stunned still… he… he heard her go upstairs. He couldn’t… believe… he had just said that to her. He… turned around and rushed upstairs. He came into his room to see her tying her boot. _She’s leaving._ Of course she’s fucking leaving. “Quinn…”

Quinn couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her face. She looked up at him sharply and stood up, shifting her weight anxiously, squaring her stance. “No.”

Cullen’s chest heaved as he started for her, his brows starting to pitch outward. “Angel… I’m—“

“Stay away from me!” Quinn yelled at him, her eyes shining, pupils flashing… it took nearly everything from her to say the words. “ _Liberate._ ” She jumped violently, haphazardly… landing the only place she could think of… she fell to her hands and knees in the damp grass. _What the fuck?!_ She gasped for air, sliding down further to weep, taking in big gulps of air. _Quinn?_ She looked up at Hawke and shook her head. “Can… can I stay here for awhile?”


	34. Chapter 34

Cullen saw her eyes and leapt for her. “No!!” He shielded his eyes, his room becoming a maelstrom for that brief moment. “Fuck!” His eyes bloomed as he ran his hands over where she had been. “ _Localinto soporati.”_ He felt how violent the spell had been… how… desperate it had been. He felt where she had gone and stepped back suddenly, his brow drawing low. Why would she go there? Unless… he closed his eyes tightly. That’s how she knew. Hawke told her.

Hawke bent down and pulled Quinn up off the ground. “Jesus, Quinn… what the fuck happened?”

Quinn couldn’t stop crying. She just… couldn’t stop. She sagged against him, feeling the effects of using her magic now. “He said get rid of it.” She choked on the words.

Hawke’s spine straightened as he looked down at her sharply. That’s… cold even for Cullen. “He didn’t mean it, Quinn. He’s just scared.” He pulled her with him, up onto the patio… through the thrown open French doors that were nearly all glass… in fact, the entire back part of the house was glass. He sighed heavily as he looked up at Fenris with a sorrowful look. “This is Cullen’s woman.”

Fenris pushed his sweater sleeves up his tattooed arms… he looked down to the woman who was… damn, he could feel her pain from here. “What’d he do to her?”

Hawke pulled her against him even more, feeling her strength starting to fail her. “The asshole told her to get rid of their kid.” He bent low and picked her up before she fucking passed out.

Fenris’ expression went… dangerous. “He never—“ Hawke shot him a look and Fenris just cursed under his breath before he watched Hawke start down the hallway. He followed… when he went to turn down the guest room, Fenris scoffed and pointed to their bed. “You think she can handle being alone?”

Quinn had her eyes closed so tight, she just… she couldn’t even breathe. Her heart was being torn out of her chest, she swore it. She heard another man, had to be Fenris… his tenor was low, rough… and he had a cutting edge to his voice that made it seem like everything he said was an insult. She felt sudden softness beneath her… a rough hand smooth her hair down once she was put down… it wasn’t affectionate, it was meant to sooth. She felt her boots being tugged off of her roughly the next moment. She cracked her eyes as she hiccupped a sob, her body involuntarily jerking with it. She saw a man with platinum blonde hair at her feet, he wore it in an undercut… and he had black studs in his ears. But… he had the strangest white tattoos. “Thank you, Fenris.”

Fenris froze when he heard her lilting Irish accent… memories bombarded him. He’d forever have a soft spot in his heart for the Irish. The Celts in particular… he looked at her and frowned slightly, his features softening with the action. He gave her a subtle nod and pulled her boot off the rest of the way. He moved around to sit on the bed beside her, he saw… so much hurt in her eyes and he cursed Cullen for it. “I’d ask if you need anything but it’s painfully obvious what you need, _ma dura_.” He looked down at the hand she had slid on the bed and held out to him… he had an uncomfortable expression before he took it, feeling the familiar discomfort. But she needed the comfort… so he gave it to her now.

Hawke was in the kitchen, doing his very best not to slam everything. He had a tray on the counter… his phone went off. He pulled the headset off the wall and looked at the ID. His face twisted in a sneer as he answered it. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He growled into it, setting the glass down on the counter as he ducked into the pantry.

Cullen stood in the den, bracing his weight on the desk with one hand, hanging his head with the other. “Is she there?”

Hawke scoffed. “I should tell you no.”

Cullen breathed a sigh of relief before dragging his hand through his hair roughly. “… I panicked.”

“No shit.” Hawke said back with no amount of venom spared. “You really fucked up, Cullen.”  

Cullen’s chin shook and he nodded. “I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” Hawke started pacing. “I mean it, Cullen. You _really_ fucked up. She’s in my bed right now… fucking… _broken_.” Hawke stressed the word. “That spell nearly killed her… she was that fucking desperate to get away from you… what the fuck is wrong with you, how the fuck could you say that to her?”

Cullen sank down to a kneel, covering his mouth as Hawke all but yelled at him. “It can’t be mine.”

Hawke actually growled into the phone. “You stupid bastard.” He hung up sharply and stormed out of the pantry to see Fenris walking towards the kitchen. He slammed the phone down almost too hard. He charged towards the backdoor, pushing his socked feet down into his work boots. “I have to go beat Cullen, I’ll be back soon.” He looked up at Fenris with a sigh and a frown.

Fenris crossed his arms over his chest, shifting his weight as he watched Hawke, he could see the shine in his eyes. “You’ve paid your debt to him, Robert.”

Hawke shook his head. “Not yet.” He straightened and pulled his flannel on, tugging at it. “This is the last piece. Then I’m done.” He walked over to Fenris and kissed his cheek softly. “I’ll be back. Take care of her, hmm?”

Fenris leaned into the kiss and nodded. “Don’t kill him then.”

Hawke nodded and stepped outside, _liberate._ He whispered and vanished elegantly, like a whisper on the breeze. The next moment, he pushed Cullen’s door open, charging in.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drama, drama, drama.

Cullen stood up from where he was sitting in the den… the phone still hanging from his hand. He saw Hawke as he stepped in the hallway, looking around almost frantically. “What—“ He didn’t get anything else out before he was effectively thrown across the room. He hit the wall and slid down with a groan. He climbed to his feet just in time to see a very pissed off Hawke charging at him, kicking the chair he’d been in out of the way.

Hawke reached down and grabbed hold of Cullen’s shirt, hauling him back up. “You stupid son of a bitch!” He threw him away again, into another wall. “Did you tell her it wasn’t yours first?!” He bellowed at him as he watched Cullen get back on his feet.

Cullen adjusted his shirt sharply, wiping at his mouth with a sneer. “How the hell do I know—“ His head snapped back, he hadn’t even seen Hawke move.

Hawke pulled his fist back from the hit. “Because she loves you. Why?! I have no fucking idea.” He started pacing, seething if truth be told. “You think she split her legs for anyone else?!”

Cullen saw red at the thought… and it showed on his face. He didn’t even have to think about it… not really. “No.” He knew Quinn didn’t… do that.

Hawke threw a hand out in his direction. “Then what the fuck?!”

Cullen tried to stop his chin from shaking before he slapped his own chest. “I panicked!” He started panting heavier.

Hawke’s eyes wouldn’t stop their show of his anger nor his power. “Then you told her… did you actually tell her to get rid of it?” He saw the words whip across Cullen as if he had actually wielded the weapon. “Fuck, Cullen.” He ran his hand down his mouth, finally stilling his pacing, setting his hand on his hip. “You broke her heart, Cullen. I mean… it’s bad.”

Cullen nodded, his eyes stinging. “I know.”

Hawke scoffed. “How the fuck am I going to make sure you’re happy if you keep fucking it up!” He finally barked out.

Cullen looked at him carefully. “Robert..”

Hawke shook his head, looking down at his hands. “You need to fix this, Cullen. I can’t do it for you, no one can.”

Cullen nodded but he didn’t say anything… he… he knew it was too late. She wouldn’t ever forgive him for those words.

Hawke watched him carefully… he saw _that_ look on his face. He wasn’t even going to try. He thought it was too late. “That’s your daughter she carries, Cullen. I felt her… she’s strong… and she’s yours. But I shouldn’t have to be the one to tell you.”

Cullen swallowed roughly and nodded. “Can I… come over and..”

Hawke nodded and moved over to him, set his hand on his shoulder and… the next moment, they were on his back patio. “I’ll go get her.”

Cullen shifted his weight, his socks catching on the cement as he started for the door, stepping into their living and dining room. Hawke’s house was open concept and modern. He frowned, wrapping his arms around himself.. he never knew how they could keep the doors open like this at night. His head snapped to the side as he heard raised voices.

Hawke had his hands held up in a placating gesture. “He has a right to—“

Fenris’ tattoos were all gyrating as he backed Hawke out of the room. “No, Hawke, get him the fuck out of here.” Quinn curled up tighter on the bed behind him, hiding in truth.

Hawke swallowed and looked at Fenris with a certain amount of disbelief. “Fenris… they need to fix this. He panicked, he made a mistake—“

Fenris’ eyes narrowed on him. “You’re defending him?!” He stood in the doorway, his hands fisted at his sides as his temper rose. “You think a few fucking words can fix this?!” He shoved him suddenly, pushing him back violently, rage snapping in his eyes. “He only came here because you dragged him back, he never would have come on his own!” He pointed a finger at Hawke, his baritone voice holding all his anger. “You think he deserves a chance, you give it to him! Get out!”

Hawke’s eyes widened at the violence. Fenris hadn’t been this angry… in a long time. Then the last had his expression turn to shock. “Fenris… hey… this isn’t… that’s not what this is about!”

Fenris scoffed at him. “Neither is this.” His lip curled at him. “Get. Out. Before I put you out.” The threat hung heavy between them before Fenris watched Hawke give him a firm look… and turn away.

Hawke looked at Fenris… just… he thought… he’d moved past this. He turned away and all but charged down the hall… when he reached Cullen, he took hold of his shoulder and turned him with him. “Come on.”

Cullen openly stared at the confrontation. He… he was fucking everyone’s life up now. He saw the heartache in Hawke’s eyes when he walked away… but damn… Fenris was… he wasn’t going to let him near Quinn. Before he even knew what had happened, he was back in his own den.

Hawke stormed away, jerking his flannel shirt off… he tossed it on the table in the kitchen before he jerked open the cabinet above the stove, about the only modern upgrade done to the place. He pulled the bottle of whiskey down and turned, pulled a glass from the cabinet and slammed the doors shut. Set the bottle down with a sharp snap… jerked a chair out and fell into it, unscrewed it… poured himself three fingers and drank it down like a shot. He knew… what Fenris was doing… and why. He just thought that he’d moved past it. But damned if he didn’t see that same guarded rage in his eyes tonight. His chin shook when he poured himself another glass… his heart hurting from being sent away.

Cullen… just went upstairs. He sat on the bed… then fell back… and covered his face with a pillow, screaming into the down at himself. At his own fucking stupidity.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To forgive is divine.

_Two months later…_

Hawke held the phone against his ear as he sat on Cullen’s back porch. “Babe… please.”

Fenris frowned, glancing across the waiting room at the doctor’s office. “I don’t know.”

Hawke sighed heavily. “I miss you.”

Fenris closed his eyes tightly as the longing went through him. “I miss you too.” He had only just started admitting it a week ago. He opened his eyes quickly when the door opened and Quinn came out, she stood at the window for a few minutes, getting the information for her next appointment. “I should go.”

Hawke felt that familiar spike of panic spear him. “Fenris… please.”

Fenris’ lips formed a thin line before he sighed again. “I’ll talk to Quinn about it… I’ll call you back later.”

Hawke cradled the phone gently. “Promise?”

Fenris frowned at the desperation he heard in Hawke’s voice. He knew he was hurting… he knew _he_ was being an asshole… but… he couldn’t bring himself to just let it all go. “I promise.” He heard the man breathe a sigh of relief. “Bye.”

Hawke had his eyes closed. “I love you.” There was a pause, a sigh… and then… _I love you too._ The line went dead. He looked up at Cullen… the man was cutting firewood… again. He was a mess… he’d put himself through the fucking wood chipper, figuratively. Thank God he didn’t actually own one of those or he might have literally done that too. Every day… he spent cutting fucking firewood… running… maintaining the house… and since fall was upon them, he’d started weathering the property slowly. Night was another thing all together… he’d eat only when Hawke damn near cornered him… he’d go to bed at a decent hour only to wake up screaming a few hours later… and then he’d spend the rest of the night in the third bedroom. Hawke frowned as he thought about the room that Cullen was working on every single night. The first thing he had done was clean it out… that had woken Hawke up one night. He spent the rest of the night with a pillow squished over his head trying to fucking sleep. Then… Cullen refinished the floors… the walls… fixed the window… ensuring not a single draft got in… it took Hawke awhile to figure out what he was doing. But when he started painting… Hawke felt his heart wilt for him. The walls were covered in the palest pink Hawke had ever seen. He spent hours in there.. meticulously painting little stars on the walls… a border that went around the entire room that was actually… really fucking impressive. Celtic knot work that was flawless. Then… he started bringing the furniture down from the attic. Each piece handled with such care… Hawke had to help with those. The crib took him aback… he could _feel_ the generations that had slumbered peacefully in the shelter of its cherry wood frame. Each piece, Cullen restored to pristine condition. When he wasn’t doing that at night, or he was forced to wait for a coat of paint or varnish to dry… Hawke knew that Cullen read countless books on childcare. A true soldier, he was reading every _manual_ he could get his hands on. But he did all of this with a look of… despair. As if he knew he was doing it for no real reason… as if he felt that he’d never get the chance to so much as see his child. Hawke was working on fixing things with Fenris… so he could fix things for Cullen. Or at least… help.

Quinn sat across from Fenris at the small restaurant, taking back the sonogram picture. She ran her finger over it with a soft smile… though sadness tugged at her… again. She tucked it into her bag and took a sip of her water. She could tell Fenris wanted to say something… she never really understood why Fenris had latched onto her so fiercely… he didn’t strike her as the overly social type. In fact, he had very few friends… but he was hers. She had asked him why he had kicked Hawke out… he had said because he endorsed a man who had said such things. She tried to tell Fenris not to throw away his happiness for her… Fenris had smiled at her softly over that… but had told her it had nothing to do with her. She heard Fenris on the phone whenever Hawke would call… particularly late at night. They argued a lot… but… there were quite a few times… when she heard Fenris’ voice go thick with unshed tears. Hawke had tried to talk to her too… tried to tell her to at least talk to Cullen. She… just couldn’t. She knew she should… she tried to call him once… but could never hit send. Every time she thought about trying to talk to him… all she heard were those hurtful words.

Fenris finished his bite of food and looked at her quietly before sighing softly. “Hawke wants us to come over to Cullen’s house today.” He saw her pause… freeze… and then take another sip of her water. He could see the storm in her eyes… he sighed again. “Quinn… I know you want to talk to him.”

Quinn shook her head. “I can’t, Fenris. I just… can’t.”

Fenris shook his head at her. “Yes, you can.”

Quinn denied it again, feeling more and more uncomfortable. “Fenris, you don’t understand.”

Fenris shifted into a more comfortable position in his chair. “Quinn… Hawke and I have been together for ten years. When we first met… I _hated_ mages. I mean… hated them. It took him three years just to get me to admit that I liked him… another two for me to stop accusing him of plotting against me every other day. And… I’ve said more hurtful things to him than I can ever forgive myself for. I’ve said them in anger… and to purposefully hurt him. To push him away because I was scared… because I thought he deserved better than me.” He sighed again. “I was _owned_ before I met Hawke… he’s a Champion.” He saw her eyes widen at the information. “We couldn’t be more different. I… I would hurt him because I knew good things just didn’t happen for me. They were impossible in my world… and every time… Robert’s forgiven me. I don’t…” Fenris scoffed at himself. “I don’t deserve him. I’ve gotten better… but…” He shook his head slightly. “The point is… Cullen and I are.. unfortunately… a lot alike. If I were in his position… I cannot say I would have reacted any better. Granted… I like to think I could never say anything _that_ hurtful. But… I have said things to Robert… that…” Fenris ran a hand through his hair and frowned. “I know he still bears the scars from.” He reached and took Quinn’s hand gently, lacing his fingers with hers comfortingly. “This child deserves both of her parents… though I still think he doesn’t deserve either of you… and… I’m pretty sure he and I agree on that one.”

Quinn listened to Fenris’ confession. She knew he was… a hard man to love. But to hear him confess to hurting Hawke so openly… and often… she frowned on his behalf. Feeling his uncommonly warm hand in hers had her sigh, settling her hand on her distended abdomen, feeling the baby push back. “I hate when you have a valid point.” She muttered before reluctantly nodding. “Fine. But…” She held a finger up to him, her brows perking. “He starts any of his crap and I’m gone.”

Fenris smirked and nodded. “Naturally.” They finished their meal and he pulled his phone out as he paid… he dialed Hawke. The first ring wasn’t even done before the man picked up. “Yeah, we’ll be over in a few minutes.”

Hawke blinked and nodded like a dumbass. “Do y’all need me to come get you? I can—“ _Hawke…_ “Right. Okay. I’m just… okay.” He hung up the phone and hoisted himself off of the porch, trotting out into the backyard. “Cullen!”

Cullen was… well… he knew what he was. He was the worst sort of man. He hadn’t learned a damn thing. He slammed the axe down again… he had no idea why the hell he was even doing any of the shit he was doing. He knew it was pointless. He… hell, he wouldn’t forgive him. He was just holding out the slightest hope that maybe… she might be merciful and let him at least see his daughter once… maybe twice. He looked up at Hawke’s sudden call, taking a deep breath, feeling the sweat slide down his spine. “What?”

Hawke held up the phone as if to show him. “Fenris is bringing Quinn over.”

Cullen blinked… surely he didn’t hear right. “What?”

Hawke gave him a droll stare. “Go take a fucking shower, dumbass.”

Cullen’s features shifted before he trotted back towards the house and did exactly that… he rushed through a shower… shaved even faster, thankful for his electric razor… and was getting dressed in a pair of jeans and a black button up.. he was pushing his feet down into his boots when he heard a vehicle pulling up. He nearly tripped getting up to pull down the blinds to make sure… it was Fenris’ sleek roadster. He all but ran out of the room, he was half way down the stairs before he forced himself to slow down. He heard the car doors shut… but only one set of steps on the porch. He reached the door and pulled it open… his breath left him. Quinn was… she looked at him nervously and then… Cullen fell to a knee, his fist set to the floor in front of him, his forearm on his knee, his head bowed. It was a Templar stance… and one they took when bowing. It was… a sign of the highest respect… and reverence.


	37. Chapter 37

Quinn looked at him when he opened the door… he was… fresh out of the shower and the look in his eyes was… like he’d been waiting here for months. Which… he kind of had. She jumped slightly when he just went down like that. It made her instantly uncomfortable. “Cullen… get up.” She reached for him when he didn’t get up right away… pulling at him under his arms. “Knock it off.”

Cullen shook his head sharply though her hands on him… her touch seared him. “I dare not.” He said in a rush. “I am unworthy to stand in your presence.”

Quinn scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Cullen—“

Cullen shook his head again. “I have no excuse nor reason for my actions nor my words. I deserve no forgiveness from you nor from God.”

Quinn was getting really tired of this… whatever he was doing! “Cullen, stop it!” It didn’t help that from the moment he spoke, the baby started doing summersaults in there, as if she knew he was near. She could hear him.

Cullen refused to move… his chin shook as he forced his teeth together… tried desperately to just… not make it worse with his pain. It was nothing compared to what he’d done to her. “I have no right to ask anything of you…” His voice caught, he cleared his throat. “But… I pray you’ll grant me… time… with…” He fought the burning in his throat. “My daughter.”

Quinn bit at her lips, having to look up quickly. She heard how thick his voice got… saw the way he was laboring to breath. She sniffled quietly… shaking her head before she threw a hand up before digging into her bag… she sniffled again before she held the sonogram picture down to him… slapping at his forehead with it. “… Here.”

Cullen ached when he was received with silence. He knew it was a shot in the dark anyway… he flinched when he felt the flutter of… something against his forehead. He glanced up… and… covered his mouth as his world swam. It was a profile image... his features shook as he tried not to let them crumble. “She’s perfect.” He managed behind his hand.

Quinn nodded… and cursed in her mind at his obvious emotion. Damn him. She hadn’t wanted to forgive him… hadn’t wanted to understand… but well over a month ago she knew that Hawke had been right. He’d panicked. But… it didn’t make the hurt any less. She offered the picture to him more intently. When he took it with a hand that shook… she stepped past him and walked into the house. “Will you get up now? I have to sit down.” She didn’t say it snotty or mean… she just said it because it was true. Her feet were starting to hurt again.

Cullen held the image as if it were handed to him by Andraste herself. He stood up when she spoke again… he momentarily wondered where Fenris and Hawke had vanished off to.. but ignored it. He shut the door and followed her into the living room… she was sitting in the arm chair. He didn’t miss that she sat there on purpose… so he couldn’t sit beside her. He put the picture in the center of the mantel… his fingers lingering before he pulled away. He looked at her again… he couldn’t help the longing in his eyes. “You look so beautiful, Quinn.”

Quinn shifted uncomfortably under his compliment. “No I don’t… I look like a damn whale.” She tugged at her shirt, hating that it was already getting too tight… again. At this rate, she might as well just wear a fucking sheet soon. She looked up suddenly as Cullen knelt in front of her again.. this time though, he looked at her.

Cullen shook his head at her.. he wanted to reach for her so bad his fingers actually tingled. “No… you don’t.” The muscles around his mouth twitched as he leaned his hands on the arms of the chair.

Quinn looked at him carefully… he wanted to touch her but he was holding back. She… felt her strength starting to wane. Damn him. She felt the baby kick her sharply… she winced and sucked in a sharp breath. Cullen’s expression shifted to sheer panic.

“Are you okay?” His voice strained as he ghosted his hands over her shoulders.

Quinn smirked and nodded, even gave a bit of a laugh. “I’m fine… she just kicked real hard.”

Cullen’s brows shifted up… his eyes flicked down at her stomach… he couldn’t get over how much she’d grown. It was… blowing his mind. He jumped slightly when he felt Quinn’s hand on his own… his blood pressure spiked from that contact alone. She set his hand over her stomach… covering it with her own. He swallowed roughly and spread his fingers. He felt a pronounced nudge against his palm. His breath left him in a rush… “Oh… Angel…” He lost his mind for a moment… he set his other hand to her… crowded her and set his cheek to her stomach… closing his eyes and letting out a ragged breath. “Hi sweetheart…” He breathed at the end.

Quinn’s brows shot up as she was immediately invaded upon. The look on his face… and then… she couldn’t help the tear that slid down her cheek. She closed her eyes for a moment before shaking her head with that _damn it_ expression, reluctantly giving in. She sank her hand into his damp hair… felt him melt against her. “Damn you, Cullen.” She breathed down at him, gripping his hair tightly and giving him a tug.

Cullen winced but didn’t move beyond that. “I know.” He slid his hands around and wrapped his arms around her fully, splaying his hands up her back. “I’m sorry… is... just not enough… but…” He buried his face against her. “Angel, I am so damn sorry. I didn’t mean any of it. I…” His face fell as he shuddered, feeling her hand ease in his hair.

Quinn nodded. “I know.” She shook her head at him. “I can’t get hurt like that again, Cullen… I… just can’t.”

Cullen looked up at her with a confused look. “Does that…”

Quinn sighed and pulled at him, he easily came up to her face to face. “I’ll stay.”

Cullen exhaled as a wave of relief flew over him, he captured her lips probably too fiercely… but he did it anyway. He kissed her with abandon… feeling her hands on his cheeks… his jaws… his neck… he kept one hand on the side of her abdomen while the other cradled her nape gently.

Quinn swore her toes curled at the way he kissed her. This was why she’d refused to see him… she knew that if she got near him… she’d buckle. When he broke the kiss, he was panting, his gold eyes searing in their intensity. She stroked his smooth cheek softly… she felt his thumb caressing her abdomen tenderly. “Don’t hurt me like that again.”

Cullen nodded at her. “I won’t.” And he wouldn’t. He pulled back and took her hand. “Come on… I have something I want to show you.” He helped her up even though she scoffed at him. He smiled at her… he couldn’t help it… he cleared his throat, sniffling as he lead her up the stairs. He chuckled at her comment of _oh these are going to get old real quick_. He lead her down the hall to _the_ room. He pushed the door open and flipped the switch just inside the door.

Quinn saw the way he was standing there… the pride in his eyes. She narrowed her eyes at him gently. “What have you been up… to…” She covered her mouth as she looked at the stars on the ceiling… no… they were like string lights. They cast the room in a gentle light… the walls… the furniture. The crib… a rocking chair… a dresser… a lamp… there was a sheep skin rug on the floor. The curtains were lace… and… just… the whole room was… she had drifted in and turned around slow. Her eyes misted… then flooded. She started crying like a damn baby…

Cullen watched her with a quiet smile… then frowned when she started to cry. He went to her and took hold of her shoulders gently. “What’s wrong?”

Quinn set her hands on his chest, shaking her head at him. “Nothing.” She sniffled almost too loud. “Cullen, this is… this is beautiful.”

Cullen smiled softly at those words. “I… had nothing else to do.” He said low, pulling her against him was awkward… but… he did it anyway. He felt the slight nudges against his abdomen… it was… he closed his eyes and just held her. Their daughter between them… his… his family. He kissed her forehead softly. “I love you so much, Quinn. I… I don’t deserve you.”

Quinn leaned into the affection… closing her eyes at his decree. “Shh…” She kissed his chest softly. “I love you too.”

He took her back downstairs… just as he saw Fenris’ car leaving… Hawke’s arm hanging out the driver’s side window… the car peeling out when it hit the pavement. He couldn’t help but smirk. He spent the rest of the day listening to her tell him about the past few months of her world… and he told her… everything. He made her dinner… and refused to let her do the dishes. He didn’t want her on her feet too much and was playfully snapped at for it.


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rings the Bells: Smut!!!

Cullen couldn’t begin to tell her how much he would never be able to thank her enough. He felt her pulling him behind her… she lead him upstairs… down the hall… and into his… no… _their_ room. He just… stood there. He held her hand loosely as she moved around him… heard the door shut behind him. He looked at her… saw the softness in her eyes. She stepped up in front of him… started unbuttoning his shirt, one button at a time… he swayed with her, bending low, his nose brushing alongside hers. His body crying out for her… this was how he always spoke to her best. He felt her pull his shirt off his shoulders… down his arms… and toss it on the single chair in the room. He swallowed roughly… feeling her tender hands on his chest… running down his abdomen. He reached for the hem of her shirt… felt her hands take hold of his… tilted his head at her sudden discomfort. “You’re beautiful, Quinn… you carrying my child… hasn’t changed how much I want you.”

Quinn looked up at him nervously but reluctantly let go of his hands… letting him pull her shirt off. She still felt… uncomfortable. She looked at him after he was quiet for a few moments, she felt his hands on her lower back, his fingers caressing her slowly. The look on his face was… she felt desire fly through her. He’d never looked at her like that before… his lips parted so he could breathe… his pupils dilated with his arousal.

Cullen… couldn’t believe how badly he wanted her. Even when she’d first arrived from Dublin… it paled in comparison to how much he wanted her right now. He ran his hands up to her bra clasp… unhooking it with almost no trouble… he eased it off of her… his breath leaving him. He’d read that… some men found their women even more desirable when they were pregnant… something about the idea of them carrying their child seemed to drive their lust high. He had no idea… now he did. His cock ached for her… he wanted her in every way he could take her... he ran his hand down her chest… her breasts were larger than they had been… he knew that was part of it too. He also knew he’d be wise not to suckle upon her there either… lest he want an unpleasant surprise. He felt his belt go loose… the button on his jeans… he sucked in a sharp breath as his zipper parted. His groin tightening as he started ushering her towards the bed… he had wanted to let her… lead this. But.. he apparently wasn’t built that way. At least not entirely. He laid her down gently… the moonlight coming in from the blinds was all the light he had… and all he needed… he wouldn’t mind some more though. He wouldn’t push her.. he knew she was… well… he didn’t know why… but she obviously felt self-conscious about her body now. He pulled her leggings off… taking the underwear with him… smiling softly at her raised brow… socks went too… since they’d taken their shoes off downstairs… he didn’t have to worry about those. He dropped his jeans and boxers before he climbed up onto the bed, crawling up her body… he pulled the blankets up with him. Seeing her expression ease… he smiled at her again… he laid down behind her. He urged her onto her side… his lips already on her neck as he started marking the skin… he heard her breath leave her… he ran his hand down her body… over her belly slowly, giving her a firm hold there for a moment before he reached further down… her entire body tensed when he slipped his hand between her legs. She moaned almost too loud… his mouth fell open, his length throbbing between them… she was already slick and ready. He’d hardly touched her… he remembered reading something about that as well… he felt her hand in his hair, keeping him against her. “Marry me…” He breathed in her ear.

Quinn felt pleasure erupt all over her at that simple touch… she felt him starting to stroke her slow and steady… her hand sank into his hair, her other one held onto his thigh behind her… she felt him behind her, felt how hard he was… her body wept at the idea of feeling him inside her again. Then his words… she gasped as he slid his finger further down, toyed with her opening. “Why… do you want to marry me…” She gasped again, her body starting to tremble.

Cullen was doing everything to not start rutting against her… he held her with his other arm… gently cradling her against him. “Because I love you.” He breathed, he pitched his shoulder, pushed her thigh upwards with his own… and slid his finger into her. “Oh god…” She cried out as she came immediately. Her voice filling the air and his mind… she coated his knuckles as he curled his finger and started panting desperately. “Answer me…” He breathed against her.

Quinn gripped his thigh firmly… her body splintering apart on her… she had been so sensitive lately. She trembled, her body quivering around him. His reason was… the only right one. “Yes.” She answered, feeling him start to shake around her.

Cullen closed his eyes at her answer… he… he kissed her neck feverishly… shifted… his hand on her hip, pivoting her slightly… he reached between them… guided himself. His entire body flexed when he felt her against him. He groaned loud for her… and slid himself into her slow, his entire body shaking as he gathered her in his arms… he was mindful not to force her to roll any further… he rolled slightly back, pulling her with him… he even reached and snatched the other pillow… bringing it in front of her… he felt her shift… and shudder upon him. He just held her like this for a moment. Letting her answer sink in. “You’ve made me so happy, Quinn…” His tenor shook… he started to withdraw… and thrust back into her welcoming body. “God… so fucking happy…” He bared his teeth as he started moving in earnest… she was already starting to tighten around him. She screamed for him… bid him fill her further… his hips rolled, snapping as he held fast to her… his other hand cradled her abdomen gently… he barked out a cry when she came undone around him, her body pulling him into her further. _Oh God, Cullen!!_ She screamed for him.. he buried his face in her nape… and joined her. He spilled fiercely, groaning against her skin as he kept himself locked into her.

He fell asleep that night to the most wonderful feeling in the world… Quinn in his arms and his hand on his daughter… his child safely sheltered in the protection of her Mother’s womb.

The next morning… Cullen made love to her again… then she told him that she wouldn’t marry him until after the baby was born. He agreed. At breakfast… he slid his Mother’s engagement ring on her finger… marveling that it fit her damn near perfectly, it was a little tight though. Quinn reminded him that her fingers _were_ a bit swollen. He nodded in agreement… by noon… it was a perfect fit. He spent the afternoon rubbing her feet and listening to her tell him about her family. She had been orphaned when she was twelve… but she remembered her family. And her heritage. Cullen… was proud that Quinn knew as much as she did… so they could tell their daughter. And when he told her that he could play the pipes… she had baited him into showing her… he scoffed and explained that he hadn’t touched them in years… that his father was from the highlands near Scotland… and that it was traditional. He even had _colors_ … Quinn joked and asked if he had a kilt. Cullen smirked and nodded. “I do.” He pointed up. “It’s in the closet.” She gave him a look that was somewhere between disbelief and impressed. By the time he got ready to play for her… it was sundown, which was perfect actually. “Now… if I suck, it’s been fifteen years since I’ve touched them.”

Quinn smirked, sitting on the back porch, looking at Cullen as he held the pipes… it was an odd sight. She had tried to talk him into wearing his kilt for her but he denied it. It was only for special occasions he said. She booed him but he at least was doing this. She could see his nervousness. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She hoped… someone who didn’t know the pipes could really hurt your ears.

Cullen rolled his eyes before he began. _Farewell Pen_ left the pipes… a little rocky at first but then the tone leveled out… Cullen couldn’t help but stand a bit straighter… proper posture was damn near required for the instrument. He remembered his grandfather teaching him the song. It wasn’t just a saying. It was true. In parts of England, still today, the pipes were outlawed. He flicked his eyes over to her and winked at her… she was watching him with a soft smile. He found it funny almost… most people associated the pipes with Ireland… but they were highland, all the way. The borders blurred when you got into that region. When the tune picked up, he couldn’t help but tapping out the rhythm quietly on the worn boards. That’s when the tune got complicated and he had to work on two of the pipes at the same time… and bring in a third before letting the first go. But he managed the change over with only a minor blunder, he rolled his eyes at himself over it but Quinn didn’t appear to notice all that much. When it was done, she clapped enthusiastically and whistled… generally made him blush. He scoffed and put the pipes away… and let her take him back to bed.

While they laid there… he prompted her about the Gaelic he had heard her mutter once or twice. She said she knew it just fine… he asked if she could teach him and she just barked out a laugh. He looked somewhere between confused and offended… Quinn set her hand to his cheek before she told him, in Gaelic, that she adored his willingness to learn but that it was one of the most complicated languages to learn if you weren’t born to it. Cullen had given her a dumbfounded look… he didn’t even know one could make half the sounds with the human mouth as she did… she told him in English that she’d teach him but it would be slow and painful. He chuckled low and told her that it’d be worth it. He made love to her once more before they went to sleep.

 


	39. Chapter 39

The next morning… Hawke delivered a suitcase that was filled with the clothes that Fenris had apparently gotten for Quinn. Cullen sat on the porch with the man, not wanting to wake Quinn with raised voices. He gestured to the pronounced hicky on Hawke’s neck. “I take it the two of you made up as well?”

Hawke lifted his hand and rubbed at his neck absentmindedly and chuckled low. “For now.” He looked at Cullen carefully.. the man wore a heather grey tee shirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants… his curls were disheveled and he looked better than he had… in a long time. “Tell me the truth… how are you doing?” He tapped his temple. “Up here.”

Cullen looked out over the fog covered gardens, taking a deep breath. “I asked her to marry me.”

Hawke nearly choked on the drag of his cigarette that he’d taken. He exhaled it quickly as he looked at the man. “And?”

Cullen fought the grin that wanted to pull his face into a smile. “She said yes.” He felt Hawke’s hand on his shoulder, giving the muscle a squeeze. “But not until after the baby’s born.” He gestured in an _of course_ manner. “I’m still terrified that this is all… a dream.”

Hawke smirked, letting his hand fall away. “You’ve got to stop thinking that way. That’s going to trip you up every time if you let it.”

Cullen nodded, wrapping his arms around his loosely bent knees, grabbing one wrist with the other hand. “I know.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll never deserve them.” He said it low but with conviction. “But… I’m going to try to be worthy of them.”

Hawke rolled his eyes at the whole never deserve them thing… the last though, he looked at him solidly. “Good.” He nodded, reaching and running his hand through his hair roughly, gripping his neck and giving him a pull. “You’ve earned this, Cullen… don’t think you haven’t. She loves you… or she wouldn’t be here. I’ve felt her spirit…” Hawke said it low… leaning in. “If she didn’t care about you, she would _not_ be here. And she damn sure wouldn’t have ever touched you.” He held his eye for a moment before giving him an all over look. “You Templars never could see it…” He smirked at Cullen’s droll look there for a second. “When a mage loves… they leave their mark. It’s _all_ over you, Cullen…”

Cullen took a slow breath but gave Hawke a confused look. “I don’t understand.”

Hawke smirked and shook his head before crushing his cigarette out and stuffing the butt into his pocket as he leaned away. He held his hand up as if he were cupping something in it… aiming it at Cullen. His eyes shining, he cast the gentle spell, and blew across his hand… the grains of light appearing and then flowing out over Cullen as if they were almost like glitter though they didn’t sparkle the same way. Cullen listed away slightly but they landed on him anyway. They congregated on his hands… curls… chest… shoulders… neck… damn near everywhere. “See her love, Cullen.”

Cullen held his hands out and turned them over, feeling the pins and needles sensation though it wasn’t unpleasant… he looked along his arms and body. He shook his head slightly. “I still don’t…” He reached with his hand, aiming to rub it on his forearm where some of the light had gathered. The moment he touched it, his breath left him… he felt something he couldn’t identify. A foreign emotion… it wasn’t his own. But it was… strong… and it made him feel… he closed his eyes and let his hand hover over the area and take a ragged breath. _Quinn_. He opened his eyes, a single tear falling from the overwhelming emotion… he gave a tightlipped smile to Hawke.

Hawke nodded… the spell dissipating… he reached and wiped Cullen’s face quickly. “Everyone leaves their mark on the ones they love… it’s just that you can actually see a mage’s.”

Cullen nodded and took a deep breath. “Can yours be seen on Fenris?”

Hawke smirked and pulled out another cigarette. “He lights up like a fucking Christmas tree.”

Cullen barked out a laugh at that… shaking his head. He never did understand their relationship… Hawke had spent more nights than he could count on his couch or in the guest bedroom here at the house. But he always went back… and he always forgave him for it. He prayed Quinn had that forgiveness in her. He blinked suddenly and looked at Hawke. “How come you never married Fenris?” He knew that it wouldn’t be legal here… but… it didn’t stop people from performing ceremonies.

Hawke looked down with a quiet look, shaking his head as he swallowed down the biting sting. “I’ve asked… shit… I’ve lost count at this point. He keeps saying no.”

Cullen immediately felt like shit for asking. “I’m sorry, Hawke, I didn’t mean… I shouldn’t have asked.”

Hawke shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I think it’s because he still… thinks I’m going to get tired of his shit one day or something. I don’t know.” He shrugged and took another drag. “What he doesn’t know is that I had Rylen fix it so he gets all the benefits anyway.”

Cullen looked at him quietly. “Good.” He finally said with a firm nod.

Hawke nodded. “He’ll just have to deal with it.” He crushed his cigarette out and glanced up and over his shoulder. “She’s awake.” He looked back at Cullen. “I got the call last night.” He exchanged knowing glances with Cullen before he stood up and headed out towards the car. “Visit Fenris for me?”

Cullen nodded, it was something he did whenever they weren’t on the same mission together. “Will do.” It was never more than a quick visit usually, he just made sure Fenris was actually eating and wasn’t losing his mind completely.

Hawke nodded and opened the car door, he turned back and raised his brows at Cullen. “Rylen’s sending your discharge package, by the way. It should be here in a few days. Don’t make a big deal out of it, yeah?” He nodded before falling down into the seat, he personally despised how low to the ground Fenris’ car was… but since he didn’t own one… he wasn’t going to bitch (out loud).


	40. Chapter 40

Cullen rolled his eyes and gave the man a wave before taking her suitcase inside. While Quinn showered and put her clothes away, Cullen made them breakfast. He thought about what Hawke had said and showed him… he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made as much of a mark on Quinn as she had on him. He’d never truly know, that much he knew for certain. The landline went off and he reached for the headset there in the kitchen, glanced at the caller ID and thought about letting it go to the machine… but nervously answered anyway. “Hey Mia.”

He turned out the sausage onto the towel lined plate and sighed as she went on her tirade over him not contacting them. It had been a year and a half since he’d talked to her… or Trina… or Bryce. He sighed heavily as he cracked the eggs… taking his frustrations out on them. “Mia, you know as well as I that I can’t just pick up the phone whenever I want and call my big sister. It doesn’t work that way.” He snapped at her. _Don’t take that tone with me._ He groaned under his throat and exhaled slow, counting to five in his head. “I’m sorry but you can’t be angry with me over something I cannot control. I didn’t make the rules.” _So you were on the job for the entire time?_ Busted. “Well… no… but—“ _I knew it! Look, Cullen, I understand you’ve had a rough time but that’s no excuse to leave your family in the dark. I have been worried sick._ “Mia, I know…” His voice died in his throat as he glanced up twice… the second time… he stared openly. Quinn was wearing a house dress that was this pale green that made her eyes damn near gem like. Her hair was pulled up and she was… beautiful. She just gave him a small wave and went to the fridge, started pulling out some juice… the view of her bending over like that… he looked back at the pan and cursed, nearly burning the eggs. “No, I’m not cussing you.” He pulled them out of the skillet.

Quinn raised a brow at him. “Are you okay over there, love?”  She snatched a glass from the cabinet and poured herself some juice. When he nodded in response to her question she held up her glass… another nod. She smirked and poured him a glass, putting the juice back. “You’re burnin’ them again.”

Cullen had cracked another few eggs into the skillet… and cussed again. “Damn it. Mia… no, I’m not cussing you! Who? That was uh…” He looked at Quinn nervously. “Do I have to answer?” He asked both of them with a nervous sort of laugh. To his surprise, both women said yes. He paid attention to the eggs for a moment before pouring them onto the plate and turning the stove off. He set the pan aside and leaned against the counter with a bracing expression. “That was Quinn.” He winced and pulled the phone away from his ear, gesturing to it, he looked at Quinn and spoke low. “My eldest sister.”

Quinn smirked at him… and his antics. He had told her about his siblings… and that Mia had been the second mother hen type… and that he was prone to not speaking with his siblings for long stretches at a time. She gave him a nod and sipped at her juice, pouring out one of her horse pills… or rather, vitamins.

Cullen rolled his eyes at Mia’s prattle. “Mia… Mi… Mia!” He barked finally. “I didn’t tell you about her because I knew you’d freak out.” Partially true. _Well then, tell me now. Who is she?_ “She’s… my fiancé.” _What?!_ He pulled the phone away from his ear again, wincing… before putting it back. “I know you heard me.”

Quinn smirked again… finding it interesting that Cullen actually never repeated himself.

Cullen pulled a plate down from the cabinet and put it in front of Quinn before he put the plates of food on the table, pulling the phone away from his mouth. “Eat.”

Quinn raised her brows at him. “Me man, you woman, eat woman, now.” She said in that cave-man voice.

“Damn straight.” Cullen said with a smirk. “Won’t have you starving my chi—“ He winced again. “Mia, calm down.” He gave Quinn an apologetic look. “I’m going to take this call outside… I’d rather not have you see me emasculated.” He bent low and kissed her forehead. “Please, eat something before you get sick.”

Quinn couldn’t help but chortle at him. She lifted a hand to his cheek when he drew near enough and nodded at him. “Oh, wee lamb.” She waved him off. “Oi! Did Hawke bring—“ _In the living room._ “Thanks!” She made herself a plate.

Cullen stepped onto the front porch and sighed heavily. “Mia—“

_Don’t Mia me, Cullen. What the hell is going on? I don’t hear from you for a year and a half and suddenly you have a fiancé and please tell me you were not about to say child there at the end of that sentence._

Cullen’s spine stiffened. “Watch your tone.” His voice came out hard. “Mia, I’m giving you this one warning… I know you’re coming from a good place here, but don’t.”

Mia sighed. _Sorry. Just… explain this to me, because I’m lost here._

Cullen nodded, easing his expression and stance both. “I met her on my last job. Don’t… don’t start in on me for that, trust me… I’ve heard it all. And ya know what? I don’t care. She’s…” He sighed and looked out over the lifting fog. “I love her, Mia.”

_Okay. And… the other thing?_

Cullen rolled his eyes. “I didn’t do it on purpose. She didn’t even know about it until Hawke told her.”

_I see. Well… I bet that was a shock, huh?_

Cullen felt that uneasiness settle in the pit of his stomach. “Yeah.”

_Oh no. What did you do?_

Cullen hated that his sister could decipher the smallest thing simply by hearing the change in his voice. “Let’s just say that I fucked up… and when she left you couldn’t even tell… when I got her back, hell… she’s only got a few months left to go.”

_Damn it, Cullen._

“I know!” He barked suddenly before dragging a hand through his hair. “I know.” He said softer. “It’s a girl.” He said even softer, a gentle smile pulling at him.

Mia sighed again. _That’s wonderful, Cullen, I mean it. Now… tell me about her._

“I don’t know anything about her yet, Mia.” Cullen chuckled as he teased her. _Cullen! I’m serious!_ “I know… I know.” He leaned against one of the porch posts and sighed near wistfully. “Her name is Quinn McTearnin. She’s from this small town outside Dublin… but grew up in, ya know, _in_ Dublin. She’s… gorgeous, Mia… just… gorgeous. She has these eyes that… they change between green and blue and gold… and her hair…” He set his hand over his heart and took a deep breath. “It’s not just _red_ … ya know, it’s like all the different colors of auburn… like God couldn’t pick just one shade to give her… so he gave her all of them.” He heard Mia give him a gentle laugh. He knew he sounded like a love sick fool… he didn’t care. “Her laugh… it’s like music. And when she touches me…” _Whoa Cullen, don’t get too carried away._ He chuckled low. “Don’t worry, Mia… I keep the good parts for myself.” She gave another gentle laugh. “But… when I feel her hands… it’s… like she’s pushing all the pieces back together…” He swallowed roughly. “And when I touch her… I feel whole again. She has this way of looking at me… like she sees right into me. She makes me want to be a better man… and she scares the shit out of me. How badly I need her… when she was gone…” He looked down and shook his head with a slow exhale. “I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I lay awake at night… feeling our child move… and I am in awe of the Maker and all of his creation.” _Oh Cullen…_ “And… she’s not perfect, ya know… she’s had it rough… some stuff’s happened to her that… hell, just in the time I’ve known her.” He felt his guilt kick him sharply. “But… damn, Mia, she is _so_ strong. So much stronger than I am. I don’t think I could forgive the church the way she has…”

_Forgive the church for what?_


	41. Chapter 41

Cullen thought about it for a moment before taking a heavy breath. “She’s an apostate, Mia.” He heard her slow intake of breath. “But… I don’t think I can even say that anymore… she nearly spent all the lyrium in her about seven or so months ago.”

_… What? How?_

He knew that Mia knew the severity of such a thing, being the sister to a Templar. Hell, most people knew things like that anyway. He heard the nervousness in her voice… typically… only blood mages ever did such things. So… he answered honestly… though the truth still pained him. “Protecting me.” His voice went thick on him, even now. “We were in a bad spot on my last job… she was… part of it.” He had to be careful, even now, especially on the phone. “And it came to a head… I can spin it all I want but… had she not done what she did… I… we… would have both died.” He hated telling Mia stuff like that, she knew his job was dangerous, but still. He heard her catch a gasp. “She died, Mia.” His voice went quiet as he sank down to sit on the edge of the porch. “Right there in front of me.” _Oh… Cullen…_ He sniffled quietly, feeling his sorrow pull at him. “She gave her life to protect me and didn’t even hesitate. Now, if that’s not love… I don’t know what is.” _She sounds very brave._ “She is. And I’m lucky she believes me worthy.”

_So, when are we going to meet her?_

Cullen rubbed at his face and groaned dramatically. “Mia.” He drug her name out.

 _Cullen._ She mimicked him. _I want to at least meet her before the baby’s born._

“That could be problematic. She’ll be here in a few months. And I’m not about to let her fly like this.”

_Then we’ll come to you._

Cullen’s spine straightened, his eyes widening. “No.”

_Cullen Stanton Rutherford. You will accept your family as guests._

“Oh no I won’t. I don’t have the room for all of you and I know you Mia, you won’t just bring David and the boys… you’ll get Trina and her family to come… and you’ll find a way to get Bryce here as well.”

_Cullen, you’re being dramatic. I will not._

“Liar.” Cullen shot back immediately. “I can tell when you’re lying to me. I don’t have the room, Mia.”

_I’m well aware of how big that house is, Cullen. And I know damn well you have the room._

“I do not! You’re forgetting the fact that I will not give up my room now, since it’s not just mine. And! I have one room that is so off limits that it’s not even funny.”

_Aww, you already made up a nursery?_

Cullen’s expression fell into one of disinterest. “Mia, I mean it. No.”

_We can get a hotel._

Cullen barked out a disbelieving laugh. “No you won’t. You say that but you won’t. You’ll all get on a plane, all of you will descend upon the airport here and then claim there were no rooms. I know you!” He was pacing at this point, it took him a few passes to realize Quinn was standing in the doorway with a hand over her mouth laughing at him. He paused and pinned her with a nervous yet panicked look. “And what are you laughing at? You don’t want them here, trust me.”

Quinn couldn’t contain her laughter anymore, it flew out of her. “You’re adorable when you panic.”

Cullen pointed at her. “Oi! Don’t start this… no no… don’t do this gang up on me thing.”

_Cullen, please. You’re being ridiculous. Besides, Saint Andrew’s Day is in a few weeks anyway._

_“_ Don’t use the holiday as an excuse, Mia!” He barked at her before Quinn’s laughter got his attention again. “It’s not funny!”

Quinn pointed at him in turn. “Yes it is! You’re freaking out!”

Cullen reached and pushed her finger down. “You would be too if you knew them!” He shook his head at her and returned his attention to his sister. “The answer is no, Mia and I mean it. If you show up here, I won’t answer the door.”

Quinn smirked, leaning against the door jamb again. “I will.” She said louder.

“No you won’t!” Cullen barked back at her, feeling… flustered.

_It’s settled then, see you then!_

“No! Mia!... Mia?” He looked at the phone, since the line was dead. He shot a look at Quinn who was forcing herself not to smile. He pointed the phone at her. “You…” He nodded and started stalking towards her… but there was a playful glint in his eyes.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And.... more smut!!! Like you didn't see that one... coming. -Austin Powers look-

Quinn barely contained her laugh before she held a hand up to him in a placating gesture and backed up slow. “Now, Cullen… they are your family…”

Cullen shook his head at her. “Who will descend upon this house like locusts.” He gave her a high browed nod, his shoulders rolling as he stalked her inside, catching the door with his fingertips and sending it closed, tossing the phone into the living room where it bounced on the couch. He backed her down the hall… and into the kitchen. He… damn she looked good in that dress. He subconsciously licked his lower lip and bit at it with a shake of his head, letting his eyes flow over her… the low cut of the collar that showed her ample breasts… to the short hem that stopped just above her knees, cutting across her thighs. It was loose fitting but not baggy. And he knew when she bent over, it rose up and brushed against the very bottom of her rear, giving him a peak  at her underwear.

Quinn recognized that look in his eyes… she shook her head at him slow. He was insatiable! “You’re horrible.” She said with a bit of a smile.

Cullen nodded as she hit the cabinets… he set his hands on either side of her, his palms digging into the counters as he braced his weight and ran his nose against hers gently. “ _Mmhm_.” He perked his brows slightly, his length already hard in his jeans. Damn, he couldn’t get enough of her. He wondered if this was going to pass… or if this was just them… he opted for just them. But at the same time… if that was the case… he smirked to himself… she’d always be in this condition. He covered her lips softly… at first. It didn’t stay that way, not when she sank her hand in his hair and gripped his curls… her other hand bracing his jaw in that way she liked to do so she could feel the muscles work. He sank into the kiss, pulling at her tongue, groaning in his throat as he reached for her. His entire body broke out in chills when he slipped his hand down the front of her underwear, his fingers seeking her out. He had to break the kiss, feeling her hold onto him tighter. “God, Angel… you’re so wet…”

He was still stunned, still amazed at how fast her body was ready for him now. His length ached, weeping at the feeling of her. He withdrew his hand, smirking at her whimper… he pulled her underwear down… letting them fall once they were past her thighs. He gave her another blinding kiss, though she took his breath away. Her hands pulled at his shirt… he jerked it off and let it fall to the floor… desperate to feel her hands on his skin. They left a searing trail in their wake… he hissed as she pulled at him, as she pinched one of his nipples in a way he’d never admit to liking so much. She nipped at his lower lip and sucked the sting away, his hands jerked at the button of his jeans, zipper… his hands going to her hips, pushing, urging, ushering… he turned her around… his lips never leaving hers though the angle changed.

He pushed her dress up, his hands roaming her where he could touch. He felt the tremble go through him, felt the ripples of pleasure at the thought alone… he slid a hand between them, between her legs... groaning and surging forward when he touched her. She braced her hands against the edge of the counter, keeping space between her and it. He shoved his boxers and jeans down… freeing himself. He was panting, his breath sawing from him as he took hold of himself. He had to break the kiss to breath… she was faring no better… he slid a finger into her, she moaned so beautifully for him. “God, Quinn… I want to fuck you so hard…” He breathed to her as he shadowed her lips… he wanted to take her rough… pound into her… but he daren’t.

 _God, yes…_ he heard her say. “But the baby…” _It’s fine.. god, Cullen, please… fuck me hard…_ He groaned and felt himself weep profusely from those words alone. “Fuck…” He felt her body gripping him in a rhythm… she was so close already… he set himself, bending his knees for the right angle… he reached around, cradled her abdomen gently… as he tended to do… he pushed, just enough so he could move his hand… took hold of her hip, straightened his knees and thrust upwards and forward, his hips snapping as he buried himself in one sharp thrust. He threw his head back and joined her as she cried out. “Fuck! Oh god…”

He felt her squirm, twist… her whole body quivering as she came around him. Her body pulsed and pulled, everything going impossibly slick. He held her hip tight as he withdrew while she still climaxed around him… his muscles all tense, his body flushed… he drove himself back into her sharply. She screamed for him, he groaned so loud for her. Before he knew what he was doing, he was slamming himself into her with such intensity, some of the dishes on the counter in the drain board were clinking together. He kept throwing his head back as he moved, having to… he was… his eyes bloomed, his power arced out of him… he had no control over it. “Holy shit… I’m… oh god…”

He felt his orgasm building to a level that… she screamed as she came undone upon him again. He bit at his lower lip sharply and picked up his pace, pulling her to him at the same time he thrust against her. She cried out sharply as he hit the start of her womb. She screamed his name as she bowed her head… he couldn’t stop. He was so close… he fell over her, his hand gripping the counter top beside hers. He barely withdrew from her but his hips bucked near wildly. His brow set to the back of her neck as he wrapped his arm around her belly, supporting the weight for her… even in his current state, he did not forget. “My sweet Angel… I’m so close… so fucking close…”

He could hear how wet she was… each time he filled her… it was driving him mad with lust. He felt himself grow heavy… he crowded her even more… he wanted to pin her against the counter so bad… it was almost unbearable. He bared his teeth, groaning almost non-stop as he moved. He suddenly threw his head back and cried out her name, his peak spearing him as he came almost violently. He locked his hips to her, spilling into her with such force he started to seep out around himself. “Quinn! Oh god… oh god…” He thrust into her as deep as he could… felt her belly go impossibly tight as she came again upon him. Felt the back of her thighs quivering against him. He just held her until he could take a full breath without more of himself spilling into her.

He kissed her desperately, burying his face in her hair… he slid that hand down her body, slipping it between her legs and stroking her swollen part. She cried out and pled he give her mercy. “God, I could still fuck you…” He breathed against her ear. “I could still take you… you drive me mad, Angel… for how much I crave you… for how much I crave this…” He pointedly stroked her again.

Quinn shook and trembled, her body over stimulated. “Cullen, please…” She gasped, her whole body jerking as he stroked her again. She felt him pulling her away from the counter… and down… before she knew it, her knees were on the floor… her hands. “Cullen, please… I can’t…” He withdrew just enough and thrust back into her. She moaned and twisted in front of him. He wasn’t lying… he was still hard inside of her. “What… has gotten into you…” She gasped over her shoulder, feeling his hand run up her spine and burry in her hair, his lips desperate in their exploration of her nape and shoulder.

Cullen was panting, he… he knew what was in his mind but he didn’t want to say. But… he had promised he wouldn’t keep things from her anymore. “I was thinking before… when I first started touching you… that with as bad as I want you all the time… we’ll be lucky if you aren’t _always_ in this condition.” He thrust into her again, groaning behind his clinched teeth. “God, Quinn… I swore I wouldn’t keep my thoughts from you…” She had moaned again for him… and then nodded. _Yes.. you did_. “Don’t think less of me…” He breathed in her ear. “I know it’s impossible, unrealistic… not going to happen but…” He thrust into her again. “God… I want to keep you this way…” He cradled her stomach pointedly. “I want you to give me so many children… I know… how stupid it sounds. But it… oh god…” He thrust into her again. “Doesn’t stop my mind or my body from wanting it.”

Quinn’s eyes widened at his confession… but the feeling of him… she moaned again. “God, Cullen…” He was so hard… harder than he should be considering he just came. His body really was into it… really was in that way of thinking… she knew it had to be instinct driving him. Cullen was alpha male, very virile. She should be offended… but she wasn’t. “I know.” She said on the end of a breath. “No promises.” _I know._ He breathed in her ear, filling her again. She couldn’t contain the moan that slid past her lips. “God, you’re so hard…”

Cullen’s entire body flexed in response to the praise. “Only for you.” He breathed and began in earnest… a heartbeat later, she came undone… he didn’t relent. He filled her for an hour… taking his pleasure from her body… as she went over the edge time and time again. Her entire body trembled by the time he drew near again. The things he said to her… even he was blushing… and she was screaming from pleasure. He had a hand between her legs… feeling himself fill her. When he came, he swore he saw stars from the lack of freaking blood flow to his brain. And he still wanted more, but he didn’t take any more from her. She was exhausted… he still stroked her as he withdrew from her though… and again when he laid her down in their bed… as he laid beside her and shadowed her lips… his cock aching as he pressed it against her hip… as he fingered her slow. He brought her another orgasm before he left her to sleep.


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut... smut smut and more smut, goodness.

Cullen took a quick shower and then headed downstairs quietly… he had no idea what the hell had gotten into him. But his entire body felt hot and itchy… and he still wanted her. But she was so tired… she was already asleep when he got out of the shower. He heated up and ate his breakfast… and then cleaned up the kitchen… carried her suitcase upstairs and set it by the bedroom door, unwilling to disturb her sleep. He meandered around the den for a little while before he laid out on the couch and channel surfed. The satellite TV was actually giving him channels today… not that he found anything interesting. He ground his teeth as he laid there… his cock still hard and aching in his jeans. He mashed the off button on the remote in his frustration and tossed it back on the coffee table, throwing an arm over his head and sighing heavily. He just wanted one more… just _one more_. He reached down to adjust himself, wincing from the discomfort. He immediately had to stifle a groan… he was so damned hard. He looked up at the ceiling, knowing she was _right there_ was driving him insane. But she needed her rest. He forced himself to just… relax. She’d be up soon enough.

Closing his eyes was a mistake on a massive scale… all he saw was her body laid out before him. His lips parted as he let out a rush of air… his groin tensing. He saw himself sliding into her wet heat… thrusting into her over and over as she coated him… as she screamed for him… as she gripped him so tight… he kicked his chin up and swallowed roughly. He shifted on the couch, rolling slightly. He pressed the heel of his palm to his groin, hoping it’d help push the ache away. It didn’t. His hips surged forward at the contact. He had to stifle a groan… God, he hadn’t been this horny… ever. He cupped himself through his jeans and rolled onto his side, desperate for release. He got up quickly… made way across the room, around the corner and into the kitchen, through the other doorway… and into the small bathroom under the stairs. He knew he was being pathetic… but she was exhausted, she needed to sleep, had to have her rest. And he? He needed to come. He was desperate. He was panting when he shut and locked the door… he didn’t even turn the light on… he didn’t need to. He leaned against the wall and tugged the button on his jeans, his hands shaking… he felt like his whole body was shaking. He pulled the zipper down, split his jeans… reached along the wall blindly until he felt the towel rack… pulled one of the hand towels down and tucked it into his jeans at the ready. He would never admit to it.. but he had learned well how to do this while she had been gone. He’d never felt the need this bad before though. He pulled his boxers down… stuffing them beneath his sensitive sack, hissing as he felt the cool air hit his fevered skin… and the amount of pre-cum he’d wept. God he wanted her. He turned around and braced his weight with one arm, setting his brow to his forearm as he cupped his sack, biting on his lower lip as his hips surged forward… he spread his legs and massaged the sensitive flesh… feeling more of himself weep. He closed his eyes though there was no need in the near darkness. He ran his hand up his shaft from base to tip and bit back a groan. His hand filled with the slick nature of his desire, he drug it back down… coating his cock with it. It was more than enough to create a slippery experience. He bit at his lower lip again… swaying form the feeling. He ran his fingers over the swollen head… jerking from the pleasure… he wanted to drive himself into her… his hips thrust forward, his hand dragging down the shaft. He saw himself disappearing into her… saw how wet she was for him… he ran his thumb over the head, his mouth falling open as he started pumping his hand over his cock, his hips rolling in time. He imagined himself fucking her… driving into her heat… he pumped faster… gripping his cock a bit tighter. He wept even more… he angled himself with each stroke, as he would if he were filling her. He set his hand to the base and gave himself quick, short strokes… his other hand diving down to hold the head firmly… he nearly barked out a cry… but he held it back. He thrust against his hands… both were covered with his eagerness. His desire. He wanted _her_ … he wanted her body around him… he wanted to feel her come all over him… he pressed his brow against the wall firmly. He took hold of the towel with the hand he’d had against the head… prepared… covered it loosely as his other hand started pumping faster. He wanted to come deep inside her… feel her beautiful body milk him dry… he felt it pulling up. He felt his cock growing harder… his sack drawing up against his body in preparation… his mouth fell open as his hips snapped forward and back rapidly. God, he wanted it to be her… it would be… later. He nodded to himself. He’d fuck her hard… later… he’d drive his cock into her… over and over until he… his expression changed… his brows shot up as his hips stuttered… he thrust forward and squeezed his hand tighter… pulsing his grip in mimicry… he came in a rush of lust, feeling his cum rush out of him in a rhythm all his own… he bit at his lower lip to keep himself silent, his breath sawing out of his nose. He immediately felt… that flood of relief. But he knew… he’d still want her later. He cleaned up gingerly… and tossed the towel in the hamper before he laid back down on the couch.


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And... you guessed it! Smut!!! -dramatically announces-

Eventually, he fell asleep. When he woke up again, it was to Quinn’s beautiful face… she had her hand on his shoulder. “Hey…” He breathed in… moving to get up… he frowned when she pressed a hand against his chest to keep him there.

Quinn tilted her head at him. “You should have slept in the bed with me.” She moved down the couch and then sat down, straddling his lap… and felt his body immediately respond to her close proximity.

Cullen sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his body roar back with that same feeling that had been there before he fell asleep. “Why is that?”

Quinn smirked, a perk of her brow given. “Because I know you weren’t finished.” She pointedly rolled her hips, feeling him swell beneath her.

Cullen groaned low at the feeling. “Am I dreaming?”

Quinn gave a bit of a laugh. “Maybe.” She teased… lifted her hips and started pulling at his jeans… he wasted no time. A moment later… she felt his length against her already swollen folds. The intense way he was looking at her… she’d never get enough of that look. She’d done some reading of her own… she knew his body was responding to the hormones that were thick in the air around her… plus it was all backed up by their own natural attraction to one another. But damn… she moved slow, watched as he panted… felt his hands run up her body and cup her breasts gently for how tender they had gotten. She still moaned for him.

Cullen didn’t care if this was a dream, it was a damn good one. He felt her sliding along his shaft… his cock rolling in a flex, desperate to be inside her. “Please, Angel… take me…” He panted, thrusting his groin upwards, giving her more of him to ride. She gasped and took hold of the back of the couch with one hand… his arm with the other. He felt her shift forward… he reached between them… guided himself… set… sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling of her. “There… right… right there…” He managed… then she started to ease herself down onto him. His hips twisted as she took him in agonizingly slow. He reached up and pulled her dress down off her shoulders… further… exposing her breasts so he could see all of her. In this much light… he didn’t expose her belly.. he knew it bothered her. Though he still thought she was sexiest thing he’d ever seen. “God, ride me, Angel… please…” He thrust upwards into her firmly, filling her completely. Desperate for her to give him relief. “Show mercy on me… please…” He massaged her breasts gently with one hand… the other held her hip… she began the slowest rhythm _ever_ according to him. Which was… dramatic of him. It was just steady… but damn did he want more, he wanted faster… he wanted harder. But she rode him slow… his breath sawed from him as he watched the pleasure play out on her features, on her body. Felt it building inside her. “Yes…” He groaned as she started rocking her hips upon him faster. “Please, yes…” He begged… desperate for it. She cried out, he felt her come undone… and he jerked her hip down on him. She cried out… her features twisting into pain. “What?! What is it…” He froze.

Quinn tensed… she shook her head down at him. “Not like this… it puts you too deep.” She shuddered at the sting that was slowly dissipating. She heard Cullen cuss as he relaxed… he had gone a full shade paler at the thought of hurting her. She eased herself off of him… his length was beet red… he was desperately close. She turned around on her knees… easing her weight onto the arm of the couch… he was behind her in a second.

Cullen hated the idea of hurting her… it made him actually start to soften the slightest bit. But when she turned around for him… he was right there with her. He slid himself back into her in the next moment, both of them moaning from it. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her back up to him, settling his weight on his bent knees… his heels biting into his rear, he set her on his lap and kept her against him. “How’s this…” Quinn nodded and sank her hand into his hair. He kissed her neck feverishly and started thrusting upwards into her, she moaned beautifully for him. At this angle… he could feel all of her… but not bottom out. He’d seen the position in some of the baby books he’d read. It took no time before he was panting desperately, pulling at her hips… thrusting into her as hard as he could. She was screaming for him as she came around him. His mouth fell open in a silent scream, he went… silent… as he came as hard as he ever had… he’d wanted her that much. He wrapped his arms around her, crushing her against him as he throbbed, pulsed, gave her everything.

Quinn’s expression turned to worry as he suddenly went quiet. “Are you okay?” She asked breathlessly. She felt him nod, pull her against him tighter… she felt him… her eyes widened… he was still coming. She pressed herself down onto him even more, felt him jerk near violently all over, it sounded like his voice caught in his throat… his breath sure did… before he let it out in a rush of air, panting heavily. “Oh god… Cullen…” She felt it pouring out of her… not dramatically so, but she _felt it_.


	45. Chapter 45

Cullen couldn’t move… he couldn’t.. fucking move! He was locked up all over… then she moved. He felt pleasure like lightning, strike him all over. When it finally ebbed… he kissed her cheek softly… he was covered in sweat… panting… and felt like he had no bones at all. He eased her off of him, wincing and grimacing at the discomfort. There was… quite a mess… he didn’t care… he just pulled his boxers up and fell back on the couch with a grand sigh. “Holy shit, Quinn… I think you broke me.”

Quinn couldn’t help but laugh as she turned around and eased herself down against the arm of the couch, looking at him… he was… sexy as hell. His hair was damn near soaked… all of his muscles were defined… he was flushed deeply… his jeans left undone… his length in that half hard state beneath his boxers… his boxers were damn near soaked around it. He was laid out like he’d just run a marathon and been bedded damn good. She bit at her lower lip impishly before she jested. “Ready for round two?”

Cullen’s eyes flew open and gave her a incredulous look before he realized she was joking. “Woman…” He shook his head at her. “I think that was round three or four.”

Quinn smirked. “You know we can’t do this sort of thing once the baby’s born.”

Cullen raised a brow at her. “Says who?”

Quinn rolled her eyes, stretching her legs out, getting tangled with him. “Uh, the baby will.”

Cullen held a finger up lazily before letting it fall. “The baby won’t be able to talk or move on her own for like a year. I can close a door.” He pointed at his chest before his hand went limp again.

Quinn barked out a laugh and shook her head. “What about after that?”

Cullen winked at her. “The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that the concept of the quickie was invented by parents.”

Quinn shook her head at him again. “What if the baby changes my body though… like… my boobs get all saggy and my butt goes flat?”

Cullen rolled his eyes at her. “You think I’m going to look like this for the rest of my life?” He held a hand out, gesturing to his chest. “Man boobs sag too.”

“You don’t have boobs.” Quinn countered.

Cullen held a finger up as if to correct her. “Yet.” He chuckled as she kicked at him. He ran his hand up her leg and gave her a hooded but adored look. “I’ll always think you’re beautiful, Angel… and sexy. No matter what.”

Quinn scoffed. “We’ll see if you still say that when I’m all stretched out from delivering your baby.”

“All stretched out where?” Cullen gave her a horrified look. He was faking it but he was damn good at acting.

Quinn gave him a droll stare. “Where do you think she’s going to come out of?” She pointed at her groin.

Cullen gave a disgusted look. “You’re kidding.”

Quinn looked at him oddly. “Are you serious right now?”

Cullen gave her a straight faced look. “I thought they came out of the belly button.”

Quinn looked at him for a moment before narrowing her eyes at him. “You…” Cullen barked out a laugh and curled up slightly as she kicked at him again.

Cullen slowly sobered though he still smiled at her, he rubbed at her calf gently. “Quinn… your body is designed to do exactly what it’s doing, it’s not going to _stretch_ _you out_. That’s a myth.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Quinn questioned incredulously this time.

Cullen shrugged. “I read about it.”

Quinn raised a brow at him. “You read about it.”

Cullen nodded. “While you were gone…” He cut his eyes away and swallowed before clearing his throat. “I read… damn near every book I could find about childbirth and early development.”

Quinn grew quiet as she looked at him… watched him go quiet. “Thank you.”

“For what.” He scoffed at himself. “For fucking it all up.” He hated that he missed those precious months… he missed watching her grow with their child… all because he was fucking stupid.

Quinn tugged at his shin. “For trying.” She caught his eye and shook her head at his guilt. “We’re not perfect, Cullen…”

He nodded. “I know.” He sighed heavily and turned around on the couch, climbing up beside her to wrap around her belly, resting his cheek against it and closing his eyes. “I love you, Quinn. So much.”

Quinn smiled down at him, running her fingers through his still damn hair. “I love you too.”


	46. Chapter 46

One Month Later…

Quinn walked down the aisle at the market, her hand tucked into Cullen’s bent arm. “So, what _is_ St. Andrew’s Day anyway?”

Cullen smirked, holding the canvas bags in one hand and her proudly on his arm. “It’s to honor St. Andrew.” His highland accent really kicked in when he said that name. He used to hate it but she loved it.. so he didn’t mind it so much anymore. “He’s the patron saint of Scotland. And while we aren’t technically from there… the land where my father’s people come from… used to be part of the high country.” He directed her down another aisle. They were ordering food… he _knew_ Mia was lying to him. Bryce had already called and ratted her out. He could always count on his younger brother. He had dug out the yurts from the barn yesterday. He was not about to try and stuff a grand total of eleven extra people into his house when he only had one extra bedroom and a den to spare. He’d not give up his room nor was he going to let anyone trash the nursery.

Quinn nodded with a silent _ah ha_. Cullen had been running around like a mad man lately… she could tell his family descending upon him was stressing him out. “So… what else do we have to get?” She perked her brows and sent her eyes around the small village of Honnleath.

Cullen cast a sidelong look at her before clearing his throat. “We have to pick up my colors.” He gestured down the lane to the cleaners.

Quinn raised a brow at him. “You need your colors for this?” She’d caught a glimpse of the deep blue and black plaid with silver threading. They weren’t fancy but he hadn’t actually shown them to her yet. It was as if he was embarrassed over them.

Cullen nodded but didn’t elaborate. “Aye.” He used her answer. He loved it when she said it in affirmation… it reminded him of his grandmother, if truth be told. The Scotts and the Irish were a lot alike though vastly different in many areas. He lead her down to the cleaners and ducked in, giving the clerk a bit of a nod and digging out the little ticket.

The old woman scoffed at him. “As if I need that to know which is yours, Sir Rutherford.”

Cullen felt the familiar discomfort at the title, shaking his head at the aging woman. “Ma’am… I’ve told you—“ He didn’t get another word out… she rushed to the back to get his garment. He gave Quinn an exasperated look. “I must have asked this woman at least ten times in the past year not to call me that.”

Quinn gave him a good natured grin. “Old habits die hard.”

Cullen nodded. “Guess so.”

“Ah, here we go.” The clerk returned and offered the heavy thing over. “I’ll never understand you highlanders and your incessant need for all that wool.”

Cullen shook his head and took the plastic wrapped yards of fabric, folded over many times with paper in between to prevent creasing. “It’s a curse.” He offered her a small smirk before gesturing to Quinn to head out. He had already paid when he dropped it off. He was half way down the street to the truck when he rolled his eyes. “What?” He finally looked at her.

Quinn shook her head and held her hands up. “I didn’t say anything.”

“I can feel you judging me.” He said lightheartedly… kind of.

Quinn just shook her head again. “I’m not judging you. Well… maybe a little.”

Cullen rolled his eyes. “That’s just perfect.” They walked up to his truck and he felt her dig the keys out of his pocket and unlock it, open the back door for him. He leaned in and hung the garment bag up, batting at the fly away plastic before he set the bags in the floor board. The deliveries would come later in the day.

“I’m just wondering when you’re going to tell me about all of that.” She pointed in a circle at the garment bag before going around to the other side of the truck and getting in, ignoring his sharp look… he liked to open the door for her. She rarely let him.

Cullen shut the door and climbed behind the wheel, shaking his head at her. “There’s not much to tell.” He heard her scoff and the seatbelt click. He started the truck and likewise buckled up before checking traffic and pulling away from the curb. “Per Scottish authority, these are my father’s clan colors, passed down through his line.” He checked mirrors and felt that familiar heat starting to scald his cheeks. “As the eldest son, I’m supposed to carry them at family gatherings and special occasions such as holidays and weddings, etcetera.” He gestured lazily. “I haven’t worn them in years.”

Quinn watched him as he slowly started to blush. The last though had her go _ah_ … “So that’s what it is.”

Cullen glanced at her quickly before returning his eyes to the road. “That’s what what is?”

Quinn smirked. “The reason you’re hedgy about it.”

“I’m not hedgy.” Cullen corrected, lifting his index finger off the wheel.

“Yes you are.” She smirked at the way his cheeks flared brighter. “Cullen, it’ll be fine, you don’t have to worry.”

Cullen sighed, knowing damn well she was seeing right through him. “It’s just… I haven’t done this… in a very long time. I haven’t been around my entire family in… damn… I haven’t even _met_ some of my nieces and nephews and all of them are well out of nappies.” He stressed some of the words. “When my father died…” He shook his head, turning down the road that would eventually lead to his… their… driveway. “I was supposed to do this all the time… and I just… didn’t. The last time I wore the colors was at his funeral.” He felt her hand settle on his thigh, he covered it with his own hand, grateful for her show of comfort. “When I played the pipes for you… I told you it was the first time in fifteen years… that was the last time I played.” He stressed again, picking her hand up and kissing her knuckles, keeping it against his lips. “I know Mia is expecting me to do this… and I know I have to. It’s my responsibility… especially since I have a child of my own coming.” He nibbled at her index finger before sighing. “I’m just nervous. I don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of you.”

Quinn gave him a tender look, stroking his lower lip gently. “That’s impossible. You’re going to be wearing a kilt, yeah?”

Cullen smirked. “A grand kilt for this.”

Quinn perked a brow. She had… no real idea what that was. “Still… and… what do you wear _under_ a kilt.”

Cullen raised a brow at her line of questioning. “… Traditionally nothing.”

Quinn gave him an impish grin when he glanced at her but he didn’t look at her long, his eyes went back to the road where they belonged. “So… easy access then.”

Cullen felt his groin tighten at her insinuation. “Jesus.” He breathed, shifting in his seat. “I should probably duct tape my cock to my thigh then.” Her laughter filled the cab and he couldn’t help but join her. She had a way of easing his nerves… and for that he would always be grateful.

The deliveries came right on schedule. Hawke and Fenris came over… he was surprised to see them actually. So when Hawke rounded the house and held up a six pack of ale, a cigarette hanging from his lips… a bottle of whiskey in his other hand exclaiming that the Calvary had arrived… he learned that Quinn had called them for help. Hawke helped Cullen set up the yurts… and the furniture within, the portable wood burning stoves… and inside… Fenris helped Quinn start some of the dishes. That night, they ate dinner in the living room… and Cullen didn’t miss the stars in Fenris’ eyes. Hawke had just returned from a job… and the man was in heaven. They didn’t stay long after that.

Cullen loved Quinn’s body longer than he should have that night… and when dawn came… it wasn’t his alarm clock that woke him up.


	47. Chapter 47

Cullen took a deep breath, groaning as he rolled over and stretched out… blinking lazily before he sat up suddenly. He looked around with a panicked look. He was in bed alone… he grabbed at the alarm clock desperately. “Shit!” He was supposed to go escort the family from the airport. He leapt out of bed and ran into the bathroom… he jumped in the shower, cussed loudly when he dropped the shampoo bottle… and again when he dropped the soap. He almost fell twice… barely dried off… had to jump up and down to get his jeans on. He had his shirt hanging from his gritted teeth, boots untied, still buttoning his jeans as he rushed down the stairs, his heel sliding down a few of them as he made a panicked look. He hit the bottom and started turning his shirt around frantically. “Quinn! Angel!... Ow!” He hit his knee on the sideboard in the hall. “Fuck! I overslept, you know where my hat is!?” He looked up and then back down, frustrated that he couldn’t find the right… hole… it was the biggest fucking hole in the shirt! He rushed down the hall and went into the kitchen and promptly… froze. His shirt around his elbows.. belt hanging free… hair still damp. Mia… her husband David… Trina… and her husband Michael… Bryce… and Quinn… were all staring at him. _Oh fuck me._ That’s what his look said.

Quinn was trying desperately not to laugh from behind the rim of her coffee cup, she was leaning against the corner of the countertops in the kitchen… everyone else save Bryce was sitting at the table. Cullen’s eyes found hers and she gave him a sort of eek face. “Mornin’.”

Mia and Trina both damn near exploded out of their chairs and tackled him. Cullen grimaced and tried to back away, shielding himself as he made all manner of uncomfortable sounds. “Get… get… get off!” He groaned in frustration as he was forced into a hug.

“About time you got your lazy butt out of bed! Your poor fiancé has been having to entertain us for an hour.” Mia chastised him.

“Really, Cullen, don’t you own an alarm clock.” Trina tacked on.

Cullen pushed them both away and slid out from between them and the freaking wall. “Oi! You two… don’t start.” He clapped Bryce on the shoulder as he passed him, pulling his shirt on quickly, finally cinching his belt together. “You did this on purpose.” He pointed at Mia. He came up beside Quinn and reached behind her for a mug… kissing her cheek softly and breathing into her ear. “Shoot me now.” He withdrew and poured himself some coffee, glancing out the window to see six kids running around his back garden… some of them were so damn big already. He frowned at that for a moment before turning around and stifling a yawn.

Mia scoffed and sat down as David and Michael both exchanged handshakes with Cullen. “Please. I didn’t make you oversleep. It’s lucky Quinn knows how to get up with an alarm.” She looked at the woman again… and still couldn’t get over it. Especially seeing Cullen kiss her… the way he set his hand to her belly as if he wasn’t even aware he did so. “Quinn was just telling us that you resigned?”

Cullen shot a look at Quinn, anger rolling in his eyes. “Was she now?” His words came out clipped, he didn’t stop that look even as he took a sip of his coffee.

Quinn raised a brow at him, shifting her weight and taking her own sip. “ _Mmhm_.” She nodded at him, giving him a look that said he could be pissed all he wanted.

Cullen shook his head at her. “Well, by all means, please… continue. I love hearing conversations about my private affairs.” He gestured ahead of him. David and Michael both shifted uncomfortably. Michael said he was going to go check on the kids… David followed… neither of them knew Cullen very well.

Mia rolled her eyes at him. “Knock it off, Cullen. You should have told us.”

Cullen sent his angry look to Mia. “I would have if it was any of your business.”

Bryce sighed heavily while Trina just shook her head. Mia however… narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t think it was any of our business?” She snapped at him. “We hardly hear from you at all and then it’s only when I track you down… and then you go and resign from this job that we never wanted you taking in the first place… and you weren’t even going to tell us?!”

Cullen set his mug down almost too hard and stood up straighter, his brow shooting down. “You’re not my fucking Mother, Mia. I don’t have to tell you a God damned thing!” He barked at her. “If I make a decision—“ His attention snapped to Quinn… since she was leaving the room. “Where are you going?” He eased his edge a bit.

Quinn shook her head at him. “You’re gonna mess around and send me into premature labor with this shite.. I’m going outside.” She paused at the door and looked at him firmly. “When you decide to stop being an arsehole, come find me. Until then…” She pointed at the room in general. “Have fun.”

Cullen took in a breath and made to walk after her, she threw a hand up at him and went out onto the back porch. He made a face and shook his head sharply. “Damn it.” He grumbled under his breath before he turned around and tried to take a steadying breath… he jerked the cabinet open and pulled the pill bottle off the shelf, flipped the top open and… _And don’t even think about it!_ Quinn’s voice came in from the porch, her words kicked with her accent for her ire. He growled and closed the bottle, tossing it back in the cabinet and shutting the door a lot quieter than he wanted to. He shot a look at Mia and leaned against the counter again, rubbing at his face roughly before picking his coffee back up and taking a drink… trying to calm down.

Mia opened her mouth but Bryce shot her a look to shut it. He looked at his brother with a frown. “Cullen… look…” He stood up and crossed the room, coming up beside him in a lean. “We’re sorry for invading you like this. I told Mia..” He shot her a look. “That it was too much.” He set his hand on his shoulder. “We just missed you… that’s all.”

Cullen nodded and took a deep breath. “I know…” He drug his hand through his hair again, setting his mug back down. “It’s just been…” He looked at all three of them before standing up on his own feet and gesturing around him. “This is my bubble.” He took a hasty breath. “Here, it’s me and Quinn… and… it’s…” He struggled to find the words. “There’s no pain here.” He said suddenly, sending a pleading look between them all. “That’s the first time I’ve even thought about taking Liriodone.” He sighed heavily. “I’m not easy to be around. I know that.” He swallowed and rubbed his hands together slowly in front of him. “And I do miss all of you… I hate that I don’t even know… how old some of your kids are. But… I needed more time.” He looked at Mia pointedly. “And you didn’t listen. You _never_ listen.” He stressed.

Mia took a breath and let it out quickly, holding her hand up in a sort of defeat. “I… I’m sorry, Cullen. I just… I wanted to see you and… family’s so important.”

“You didn’t even stop to think… that maybe I’m freaking out a little bit. Quinn’s one month away from delivering… that terrifies me.” He shook his head at her. “I’m not the same man I once was.” He shrugged. “I can’t just _roll_ with things anymore. I resigned… yes.” He nodded. “I hated to do it. I have _no idea_ what I’m gonna do.” He shrugged in an almost defeated manner. “So I didn’t tell you. Because I know you were gonna ask what I was gonna do then. And I don’t know.” He shrugged again. “I don’t tell you a lot of things Mia, because I don’t want hear it. I don’t want to explain it and I don’t want to have to lie to you when you ask why… I… do the things I do. Why I...” He took a heavy breath. “But you’re here now.” He said finally. “Just… give me a damn minute to fucking wake up.” He shook his head, picking up his coffee and heading out onto the porch to join Quinn. He sat down behind her, sliding his legs on either side of her and putting his coffee down next to hers… he wrapped his arms around her abdomen, cradling their daughter gently… and buried his face in her nape, hiding… if he were to be honest.


	48. Chapter 48

Mia sighed heavily as Cullen left. She looked at Bryce and Trina before she jerked and let out a breath. “Fine! Okay… you were right. I shouldn’t have just… invaded like this but… come on. He’s having a baby. I… I never thought… I mean I hoped. I prayed. But… and she’s… she’s just great.” Mia sniffled, shaking her head.

Bryce shook his head at her. “Give him some space, Mia. You’ve always smothered him.”

Trina had to agree. “Come on… just… let it happen naturally, Mia. Don’t force it.”

Mia nodded. She was always pushing when it came to Cullen, she couldn’t help it. He looked _so_ much like their father… and he was just freaking like him in so many ways. She had seen their mother push their father all the time… and that’s what it took to get their father to do anything, that’s what the man _needed_. So… she did it to Cullen. But… it always backfired. The more she pushed… the further he pulled away. She eventually followed her siblings out onto the back porch and took a seat on the swing… smiling softly as she watched her two boys… Richard and Phillip as they chased their cousins. Richard was ten… Phillip was eight. Their cousins, Trina’s children… were Melissa- nine, Caitlyn- seven, and the twins… Sarah and Scott… both were six years old. Bryce had yet to marry or have any children, as far as they knew anyway. She looked down the porch at Cullen, he had his face buried in Quinn’s hair, hiding. She saw it for what it was… it was a big _leave me alone_ sign. His hands though were gently caressing her stomach… and judging by the way she was slightly looking over her shoulder and laughing every now and again, the way his shoulders would rock slightly… they were obviously talking.

Quinn leaned against Cullen as he finally started to relax. “See… it’s not so hard.”

Cullen smirked. “For now.” He jerked when her elbow caught his stomach.

Quinn shook her head at him. “Did you apologize?”

Cullen shook his head. “Nope.”

Quinn rolled her eyes at him. “Dare I ask why not?”

Cullen shook his head again. “Nnnope.”

Quinn sighed and grumbled in Gaelic.

Cullen looked down at her and raised a brow. “I recognized one of those words, ya know. I’m not a moron.”

Quinn looked up at him. “You act like it sometimes.”

Cullen nodded. “Agreed.” He palmed her stomach more firmly. “Jesus, little one… easy in there.” He felt their daughter damn near flip around, or so it felt.

Quinn smirked. “You should have felt her last night, I don’t think I got any sleep.” She sighed heavily.

Mia swung down to sit beside them. “When I was pregnant with Phillip… I could barely sleep.” She butted right in, thus was her way. “You can try putting a pillow under your stomach, so it’s supported but put another pillow on your back… and of course one between your legs.”

Cullen shot an aggravated look at Mia but… it _was_ her way. “And where will I sleep? On the floor?”

Quinn chuckled a bit. “There’s always the couch.”

Mia smirked. “David spent the last month in the guest room because I got up and down so much at night.”

Cullen rolled his eyes. “Not happening.”

Mia gave her own laugh at him. “So you say now.”

Cullen winced as he splayed his hand on her belly again. “Damn, doesn’t that hurt?”

Quinn smirked. “No, it feels great… ya know… having someone try to rearrange my internal organs and all.” She gave him a droll stare… which he returned.

Mia shook her head at him. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?”

Cullen nodded and couldn’t help the pride in his eyes when he looked at Mia. “A girl.” He made small arches with his thumbs on her abdomen, feeling Quinn’s hands settle on his knees.

Quinn nodded. “You should see the nursery, Mia… he did such a good job.”

Mia looked at Cullen and saw the way his neck went red. “Did you get the crib out of the attic?”

Cullen nodded. “And the rocker. It’s all set up.” He kissed Quinn’s temple softly.

Mia smiled gently at her brother, he was being so incredibly gentle. It was almost hard to believe this was the same man.. but then again… he’d said he was different now. “Have you thought of any names?” By the way they both shifted, she could tell she struck a nerve of some kind.

Quinn cast a scant look up at Cullen. “ _I_ like Elizabeth. _He_ says it’s too old.”

Cullen held a hand up. “It is. I still say that Hannah is a much better name.” Quinn made a gagging sound. “Hey…” He held a finger up at her. “I think she likes it.”

“If she likes it so much, how come I feel ill every time I hear it?” Quinn snapped at him.

Cullen groaned and let his head fall back almost dramatically. “Elizabeth is so… so… _old_.”

Mia held a finger up. “It’s a Queen’s name.”

Quinn held a hand out to her. “Thank you.” She said it with no attitude spared.

Cullen shook his head at them. “No, no. No teaming up on me.” He pointed at Mia. “You don’t get a vote.”

Mia held a hand out. “How about one being the first and one being the middle?”

Quinn looked at her pointedly. “I’ve tried to get him to accept Elizabeth Hannah but he won’t budge, he’s stubborn.”

Cullen shook his head. “It sounds stupid.”

Mia sucked in a sharp breath.. sure that Quinn was going to get upset but… Quinn just scoffed at him.

“As if Cullen Stanton is any better.” Quinn said simply.

Cullen’s brows perked. “Oh-ho-ho… okay… because I picked my own name.” He shook his head at her. “Hannah Elizabeth sounds just as good…. _Quinnton Marie.”_ He leaned in to say her full name pointedly.

Quinn rolled her eyes before she saw Mia’s confused look. “My father wanted a boy, he already had his heart set on a name and my Mother couldn’t let him down.”

“A woman of virtue.” Cullen commented.

Quinn just rolled her eyes again. “A big softy, you mean.”

Mia smirked. “So, where are your parents Quinn?” She… knew she’d stepped in it again.

Cullen pulled her in against him a bit tighter, his features going softer. Quinn gave Mia a sad sort of smile. “They died when I was twelve. It’s okay though… I’ve had time to get over it.” She patted Cullen’s hands, since he’d laced them over her upper stomach.

Still… Mia frowned slightly. “Even still… I’m sorry.”

Cullen shook his head slightly before he glanced over his shoulder. “Hawke’s here.”

Mia’s spine straightened and a look of supreme disapproval flashed. “Robert Hawke?”

Cullen looked back at her and smirked. “The very same.”

And as if on cue, Hawke came out the backdoor… a bottle of wine in one hand… and Fenris’ in the other. “ _Helloooo_ Rutherfords.” He held the bottle up.

Quinn gave a bit of a laugh as Cullen raised a hand. “Hawke.” He knocked fists with him before Fenris pulled away and sat down beside Quinn.

Hawke looked down at Mia, pulling his shades down with a single finger. “ _Mia_ …” He said it with a charmed smile. “Long time.”

Mia rolled her eyes at him. “Hawke.” She said curtly, she hadn’t seen him holding hands with Fenris, so she missed that part. “I see you haven’t changed.”

Hawke winked at her. “And you, my dear… have only gotten better with age.” He sucked in a sharp breath as he made it a show of looking down her shirt.

Mia gawked at him and covered her collar with her hand. Fenris leaned back and looked up at him. “Robert.” He raised his platinum blonde brows at him. “Behave.”

Hawke chuckled low and feigned a pout. “Never let me have any fun.” He moved down the line and swung down to sit behind Fenris just like Cullen was sitting behind Quinn. “So…” He looked at Cullen over the rim of his glasses. “When do we eat?”

Cullen smirked at him. “When are you going to start cooking?”

Fenris glanced at Cullen as best as he could. “You do want to survive this meal, yeah?”

Hawke gave an indignant scoff. “Oi, I’m not that bad.”

Mia stared openly as she watched Hawke bend down and kiss Fenris on the neck with a bit of a growl. Her brows perked high in shock. “I had no idea…” The words just tumbled out of her mouth.

Both Hawke and Cullen looked at her with a _hmm_? Hawke was the one who chuckled low. “Well, I didn’t have much choice, Mia… you ran off and got married.” He jerked when he felt Fenris pinch his leg. “Hey…” He bent low and whispered in his ear. “I’m kidding.”

Fenris smirked, his deep tenor rumbling out of him. “I know. Still deserved it.”

Quinn giggled and shook her head at them all. “Do I even want to know?”

Mia and Hawke both said _no_ in unison… Cullen shook his head. Fenris was the one who spoke. “Hawke popped her cherry.”

“Fenris!” Hawke barked at him… Cullen looked at him sharply… Mia’s cheeks inflamed while Quinn just rolled her eyes.

Quinn looked at Mia and shook her head. “They’re heathens. All of them.”


	49. Chapter 49

The day drug on and eventually they all bellied up to a wonderful meal… Quinn thought it was hilarious, watching them all interact. She also noticed how Fenris wouldn’t let Hawke’s hand go… he seemed nervous with so many people around. When the meal was done… and coffee was being passed out… Mia looked at Cullen intently. “Are you going to…” She lead on.

Cullen sighed and nodded. “Yeah.” He leaned in and kissed Quinn on the cheek softly. “I’ll see you in a bit.” He looked at Hawke pointedly. “Get the fire going, yeah?”

Hawke nodded with a chuckle. Eventually… they all migrated outside to the back… Quinn was.. kind of just going with it. She felt Fenris’ hand on the small of her back as he helped her sit down on a bank of pillows that had been set up outside. She looked up at him and held his eye as he sat beside her on the blanket. “What’s going on?”

Mia settled down beside her on the other side. “It’s traditional that Cullen represent our family and play at least two songs on the pipes, maybe three.” She smiled softly. “I haven’t heard him play in… so long.”

Quinn offered a small smile in return. “He played a few weeks ago… it’s… beautiful.” Mia gave her a strange look that was somewhere between shock and awe. She cleared her throat. “How come Bryce isn’t joining him?”

Mia cleared her throat, pushing down the well of emotion that had flooded her. “Only the eldest son presents. It’s… very traditional. Bryce would only do it if… Cullen were to… well…” She shook her head. “Anyway, if he has a son… then the responsibility will fall to him. It’s a… first born son thing.” She tapped Quinn and gestured to the back porch.

Hawke had already gotten fire going, the large contained flames reaching towards the ever darkening sky. Cullen had steadied himself before he made his way out onto the back porch… his great kilt wrapped around him in a manner that… he always felt unworthy whenever he put it on. The fly away coming off his shoulder… he wore a ribbed tank because he always got way too hot playing for lengthy periods… and his tartan was wool so it was warm enough. He had it set to his knees… he didn’t wear the full traditional garb, which wasn’t expected for a holiday such as this. He opted for socks instead of hose… again… going casual. He wore his regular black lace up boots… he wore his brooch and kilt pin though. His belt and leather sporran though again, casual. He held his pipes easily and flipped Hawke off when he let out a fox call whistle.

Quinn let her eyes fly over him and… hot damn. He was… gorgeous. He cast her a somewhat bashful look that only made her think him even sexier. He stood near the fire and took a deep breath, looking around at his family. He set his hand on his chest and gave a subtle dip of his chin. His kilt was just… wow, that was a lot of fabric but… he wore it well.

Cullen didn’t have to say anything, the piper was silent… as was traditional. It was about the only damn thing he liked about this. He licked his lips and took a cleansing breath before letting his eyes settle on Quinn… a slight flex of the muscle around his eye was the only sign of a wink before he started to play. _Amazing Grace_ filled the air… the song for those who had gone before. Their parents… all of theirs.

Quinn felt Fenris take her hand and set his head on her shoulder, she leaned hers against his and took a deep breath. It was… so beautiful. She saw Hawke go quiet and bow his head quietly. She may not understand the particulars but… a lot of traditions called to pay homage to those who had gone before. She caught movement out the corner of her eye… and saw Mia’s husband, David, wrap an arm around her and pull her in against him. She saw Trina and her husband likewise embracing… their children all laid around their parents… watching Cullen intently. She returned her attention to Cullen… his eyes still held hers. She settled her hand on her belly… she saw his eyes flick down to the action and back to her gaze. She saw him stand a little straighter… and her heart melted at the flare of pride she saw in him.

When it came to an end… Quinn smiled at him… noticing that no one clapped. Cullen cleared his throat and took a deeper breath before he stood like the soldier he was. “ _Idera lo Mina Ruth._ ” His tenor echoed in the backyard… his accent thumped the words before he started on the second song. _Scotland the Brave._ Quinn couldn’t help but smile wide at that one, she recognized it too.

Mia leapt up, Trina did the same… they couldn’t help it… Quinn watched as the women started a traditional dance. She smiled and leaned against Fenris further… laughing when the children started joining… she looked over at Cullen and saw the way his eyes were crinkling around the edges… fine lines appearing… he was smiling there around his eyes. The end of the song was really challenging for how fast pace it got. By the time it was done, he was winded but he let out a bit of a laugh. He waved off the clapping. He held a hand up and offered Hawke the pipes… “Now…” He cleared his throat as he took the small box instrument from Hawke instead. “I know you’ve all met Quinn and in case you haven’t noticed… she’s Irish.” Cullen chuckled at Bryce’s _no shit?_ He rolled his eyes as he approached her and knelt, mindful of the kilt. He offered it to her. “I was hoping… she might share a bit of her heritage with us tonight.”

Quinn looked at the box and up at him with a subtle shake of her head. “Damn it, Cullen.” She looked around nervously. “I… I don’t…”

Cullen raised his brows at her. “Come on, Quinn… I’m wearing a fucking skirt.” _Kilt!_ Bryce corrected him. “What _ever_.” He looked over at his brother. “Come on, Angel…” He looked at Quinn intently. “Sing me a song.”

Quinn looked at his family and felt her cheeks screaming from the heat of her blush. “I… I’m not very good but… fine. If I suck and the lot of your ears bleed… remember whose fault it is.”

Cullen smirked and sat down in front of her, again, mindful of the kilt. Everyone drew in closer, the kids intently looking at the odd instrument that they’d never seen before.

Mia smiled as she looked between them… she looked at Quinn. Quinn cleared her throat and sat up a bit straighter, setting her hands to the top of pedal of the instrument. “So… my grandmother used to sing this… if you don’t understand it, that’s okay.”

“That means it’s in Gaelic.” Cullen provided.

Quinn nodded, clearing her throat again… glaring at him playfully before she began. _Oran Fir_ began. Cullen just openly watched her, a soft smile playing on his lips the entire time. Mia… Trina… and Bryce all openly stared… the children were all enthralled… as were David and Michael. Fenris… well… he’d heard her sing in Gaelic before… Hawke had sat back down beside Fenris after he’d put Cullen’s pipes away.

Mia looked between Cullen and Quinn… and couldn’t help but lean against David and smile. “Look at him, David.” She whispered. David smiled against her cheek. _He’s head over._ She nodded in agreement. It was amazing to hear Gaelic… it was almost a dead language entirely. To see someone… to be right there… and hear her speak it so easily. She made sounds that Mia had never even known the human mouth could! It gave it an old world feel… an almost mystic quality. When it was done, they all clapped.

Cullen leaned in and kissed her cheek softly. “That was beautiful.”

Quinn blushed and waved them off, covering her face and shaking her head. “Bah!”

Cullen walked Hawke and Fenris to their car… smiling softly at them. “Thanks for coming, Hawke.”

Hawke chuckled and shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.” He pulled Fenris in beside him before opening the door for him.

 


	50. Chapter 50

Cullen waved them off, watching them back out the drive. He made way back inside… smirking as Mia called for him in the living room. Quinn had already gone to bed, she was exhausted. He took a seat in the arm chair, pushing the kilt down in between his legs so he could let his knees fall away from each other comfortable. “Hmm?”

Mia folded her legs beneath her on the couch. “You look happy, Cullen.”

Cullen smirked at her, working the brooch off his left shoulder so his fly could ease once he stood up. “I am. Well..” He made a sort of face. “I wish she’d marry me now… but… I’m okay with her decision.”

Mia blinked at his confession. “So… tell me how you two met.”

Cullen gave her a droll look. “I told you, it was on the job. I can’t tell you anything more than that.”

Mia raised her brows at him. “Not even…” The way Cullen looked at her made her sigh. “Well, tell me _something_.” She looked at him with a mischievous grin. “These are the best parts.” She leaned against the arm of the couch and wiggled her fingers at him. “Tell me what you thought when you first saw her.”

Cullen chuckled low and shook his head, bent over and started working his boots off. “We aren’t girl friends, Mia.”

Mia scoffed. “Come on, I never get to hear stuff like this.”

Cullen jerked at the laces on his boots before he looked up at her with a furrowed brow, his voice somewhat strained. “Honestly? I thought she was a prissy little female and didn’t want to waste my time on her.” He chuckled at Mia’s gawking look. He jerked his boots off.. and leaned back. “You don’t want to know the particulars.”

Mia nodded. “Yes, I do. Come on, Cullen, details! Details!” She snapped at him.

Cullen chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Well… I guess the first time I really looked at her was when she went down on me.” He barked out a laugh at the way Mia damn near choked on her own spit. “Hey.” He held his hands up. “You wanted details.”

Mia cleared her throat, slapping at her chest. “Okay… maybe not _that_ many details.”

Cullen chuckled. “Okay. Well.. it was part of the job though so don’t think she’s slutty or anything.” He said seriously there at the end. Mia nodded at him. “Anyway… that’s when I found out she was an apostate… and… well, you know how I was.” Mia nodded again. “She was so scared, Mia.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She thought I was going to hurt her… and I… I don’t know. I just… I wanted her to know that I wasn’t a Templar anymore. So… I was gentle. I…” He shook his head with a scoff. “Anyway. She was there the next day when I had… a trigger.” Mia cringed… Cullen nodded. “Yeah.” He sighed heavily. “She… well… being a mage…” He gave her a high browed nod.

“Ah.” Mia nodded, she wasn’t stupid.

Cullen smirked. “Yeah. She was… damn.” He shook his head and let it fall back against the chair. “I can’t explain it.” He smirked and looked at her intently. “I’m not saying it was all sunshine and roses… because… well… I’m _me_. But… well… she’s here now.”

Mia nodded with a bit of a smile. “I saw Mom’s ring.” She saw him smile softly. “I think it’s nice, Cullen. I really do.” She wanted him to know that she really did approve.

Cullen smiled again and nodded. “Me too.” He said with a smirk and hoisted himself up with a groan. “Goodnight, Mia.” He waved at her lazily before he headed upstairs and into his room, shutting and _locking_ the door behind him.

Mia watched him go and couldn’t help but smile… she hadn’t seen him wear the colors since their father’s funeral. It was nice to see him paying respect to their family again. Her and David were staying in the second bedroom… she made her way upstairs quietly, checking on the children in the den first… the boys were sound asleep. She started passed the third bedroom but paused… glanced over at Cullen’s room before she stepped towards it… easing the door open and clicking the light on… she couldn’t help but cover her mouth. It was… so beautiful. She’d always wanted a daughter… not to say she wasn’t unhappy with her sons. It was just… she saw the nod to Quinn’s people at the top of the room. She stepped in and saw a few framed photos on the wall… one was a sonogram. She smiled softly and reached for it but didn’t touch… she moved on to another one… it was Cullen and Quinn… it must have been when they first met because they both looked very different and she wasn’t pregnant or at least… didn’t appear to be. They were standing in front of some waterway… and it was a selfie. Cullen was standing behind her, his hand spread out over her upper abdomen, pulling her against him with a sort of smirk… but there was a hint of real happiness in his eyes. Quinn’s smile was genuine, her hand set to his cheek as she held the camera out and above them. She saw Cullen’s other hand on her hip… he wore a beanie… it was odd to see him _on the job_. He almost looked like a different person all together, especially with the beard. She moved on to the next photo… it was taken at a house she didn’t recognize. It was Quinn… she was sitting on a blanket in a garden… but the picture was taken from behind some foliage… as if she was being spied upon. She had one hand on her stomach, she wasn’t as big as she is now… the other she was holding a book… she was looking down at her belly. It was… actually a really beautiful picture. The next one was of Cullen… it was another spy type picture but it was taken from the doorway of this very room, though it was through a crack in the door. Cullen was standing on a ladder, painting the celtic border. It was a shot of his back, his face craned upwards as he focused. He was building a life here… and it was about damn time! She left the room quietly, clicking the light off and easing the door shut behind her. She was almost to the door of the second bedroom when she heard… she paused and listened… thinking maybe it was the boys. Her cheeks scalded when she heard it again… her attention snapped to Cullen’s door before she quickly rushed into her own, shutting the door and padding over to the bed to climb in and cover her head with a pillow. She had heard bed springs… in a telling rhythm. And she was pretty damn sure she’d heard someone make a sound… she shuddered at the idea of her _brother_ … ugh!


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -Bangs the Smut Gong-

Cullen had quietly went into the bathroom and pulled his tartan off… gently draping it over his arm over and over again until he could hang it on a hanger and tuck it into the closet… yeah… he felt weird standing there in a tank and a pair of socks and… nothing else. He removed everything else and tossed them into the dirty clothes before he brushed his teeth, his eyes kept flicking to Quinn though. She was laid out with her back to him… surrounded by pillows.

She had taken to sleeping nude a few weeks ago… he didn’t blame her. Comfort was key in her condition. But… she had kicked the blankets off… probably because she’d gotten hot… so he was gifted with a glorious view of her entire backside. He rinsed his mouth and wiped his face… clicking the bathroom light off, he climbed into bed and pulled the pillow she had against her back away, putting it back where his head would freaking go. He slid up behind her and pulled her hair off her neck gently… his lips already heading for her neck. His length already growing rigid between them, nudging at her rear insistently. He heard her take a deep breath… _hmm_ softly to him. He smirked in the darkness and ran his hand down her hourglass, her wider hips… between them where he cupped her rear firmly, lifting the muscle as he crowded her intently.

He felt her shift, a soft sigh coming from her… he slid his hand beneath her pillow, stretching his arm out under it… getting closer to her… nipping at the delicate skin of her shoulder as he closed his eyes, feeling her against him like this. He couldn’t go more than a day without having her… he wanted.. god he wanted her so badly sometimes. Tonight was no different. “Angel.” He spoke against her skin as he slid his hand further down… fingers reaching for her. He took in a sharp breath when he touched her… _Cullen…_ he heard the groggy sound of her voice. “Hmm.”

He started marking the skin right there on her shoulder, his groin tightening fiercely as he slid his finger between her legs… groaning in his throat. She was always so wet now… he heard her breath leave her, felt her tense as if she’d just woken up. _What…_ “Please.” He whispered, his voice catching as he toyed with her opening. “I won’t take long.”

He breathed, already starting to pant. He felt her roll more towards him, just enough… her hand reaching behind her… he surged forward when he felt her fingers wrap around him. “Oh god…” He shuddered as she stroked him. He pulled out of her hand and guided himself, stroked her slow with the firm head of himself. He felt her weep against him… felt her body start to twist. _Please, Cullen…_ he nodded and slid himself into her so easily, he stifled a groan against the back of her neck as he fell into a rhythm that had become so natural between them. He reached a hand around… his fingers touching her tender skin… stroking her as he moved. He heard her silence her moans against the pillow, turning away from him to do so. Still… he heard the springs in their bed protest… he didn’t care.

He could feel her already starting to get tighter around him. He set his lips to her ear… his tenor shaking out of him as he spoke low. “Come for me, Angel…” He felt her hand leap to his hair, gripping a handful tightly… his hips snapped at that. She came undone in his arms… moaning into the pillow as she gasped… he closed his eyes and groaned as quietly as he could… he shifted, rising up onto his knees… he couldn’t help it… he had to. He lifted her thigh, straddling her other as she straightened her leg for him. He panted as he moved, his body slapping against hers as he bucked, his pace rapid and hasty… desperate… he chased the moment… and when he came, he covered her lips with all that desperation… feeling himself empty and kick inside her.

Breaking the kiss as he shook near uncontrollably. “God, Quinn… I’ll never tire of that…” He withdrew from her slowly… settled back beside her and pulled her against him, wrapping around her as he took a deep breath. He felt her already starting to drift. He smiled softly and told her he loved her… caressed her now firm belly… she murmured she loved him too… and that was it, she fell back asleep… he was moments behind her… after he reached down and pulled the sheet over them.


	52. Chapter 52

Cullen paced in the front yard, running a hand through his hair over and over again as he panted. Grimacing every time he heard her scream. “God damn it.” Mia was standing between him and the house… he hadn’t been able to control it. His powers kept flaring every time she screamed. “She’s fuckin’ dying in there!” He yelled at Mia, tears falling down his face as he took in a desperate breath.

Mia shook her head at him, frowning. “No, she’s not Cullen. It takes a lot of pain and work to bring a life into this world… trust me.”

Cullen swallowed and sank his hands into his hair, his powers arcing out of him wildly. “I’m going to miss it.” He hiccupped as he felt pain fly through him.

David came up to him again, taking hold of his elbows. “Hey… look at me.” Cullen’s eerie eyes flicked to him. “Trust me… you aren’t missing something beautiful.” _Hey!_ He ignored Mia. “Trust me, it’s bloody, it’s messy… and it’s painful.” He shook his head when Cullen scoffed at him. “I mean it, Cullen… everyone wants to say it’s the most beautiful thing in the world but it’s not. Watching my boys come into this world? Was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen. I will never forget it… and not in a good way. It really is one memory you don’t want. She’s in a world of hurt right now… and all you’re missing is seeing her in pain… and a fuck ton of blood.” _David, that’ll just freak him out more!_ David looked behind him at her. “He deserves the truth, Mia, I’m not going to coddle him.”

Cullen nodded and took a ragged breath before… he paused and tilted his head to the side. He… didn’t hear her screaming anymore. He felt ice dump into his veins. “Oh god…” He started for the house, feeling Mia and David both pulling at him. “Get off me! Quinn!!” He pulled up when he saw Fenris walk out onto the porch... carrying the smallest bundle he’d ever seen. Cullen’s breath just went right out of him as Fenris came up to him… the man was sniffling softly.

Fenris could barely contain his sobs… he was a mess. He looked up at Cullen, saw the pure fear right there in his eyes. But he approached him anyway. “Meet your daughter, Cullen.” He turned to the side slightly, showing him the little blond haired newborn.

Cullen’s brows were high as he looked down at… the most… beautiful thing… he’d ever seen. He just… stared… before his attention snapped up to the house. The windows of his room were damn near super nova. “My God, Fenris… was it that bad?”

Fenris sniffled again and just… didn’t answer. He took a rough breath and swayed slowly… when Mia approached he let her see the child… but he didn’t offer her to anyone.

Cullen glanced back at his daughter… she was… she had her eyes open. They were so damn blue… he knew they could change their color later but. He glanced at Fenris for a moment… saw the horror etched in his eyes… and decided that maybe David was right. He also noticed that the man’s markings were glowing, barely… but they were there. He was on edge… Cullen set his hand on the man’s shoulder… held his eye and gave him a firm nod. He was… guarding the child. The light faded and Fenris looked up. _Come on._ Cullen didn’t have to be told twice… but he didn’t run.. he wanted to.. but he wouldn’t leave their child behind.

Cullen walked into the room first… and felt like someone hit him in the chest with a sledge hammer. Bryce was helping Quinn sit up against the headboard… there were fresh sheets on the bed but… the pile of bloody fabrics… and she was so pale. He located Hawke… the man was sitting on the floor, covered… damn near covered entirely in blood… leaning against the wall, looking like someone damn near punched his ticket. Fenris quickly moved to Quinn and handed her the child… he didn’t rush her but he didn’t linger either. He rushed over to Hawke in the next moment, hushed tones being exchanged.

Cullen sat on the bed beside her and shook his head at her, brushing her hair back from her face. “Scared me there, Angel.” He frowned at her.

Quinn felt… so weak. She nodded at him. “Both of us.” She looked down at the baby. “Isn’t she beautiful, Cullen.”

Cullen let out a breath and nodded. “Just like her Mother.” He leaned forward and kissed Quinn on the forehead, hating how cold she felt. He climbed up beside her, moving slow as to not jostle the baby. He watched as Quinn set their daughter to her breast and got her nursing surprisingly easily. He ran his finger down her little cheek, smiling when she lifted one side of her nose in response. He glanced over at Hawke… the man was still down. Fenris looked… so worried. He sat beside him, Hawke resting against him as he breathed shallow. But he’d be alright. He looked back at Quinn quietly and then pointedly down at their daughter. “How about Roberta?” He whispered low.

Quinn smiled softly to him. “It’s perfect.” She leaned back against his shoulder and took a deep breath, rubbing small circles on the baby’s back.

Robert chuckled low from his position on the floor… feeling Fenris’ strong arms around him was the only medicine he needed… well… that and some time… rest would be good too.


End file.
